The Adventures of Aeneas by Alfred John Church
WHEN the fair city of Troy was taken and destroyed
there appeared to Æneas, who alone was left of all
the great chiefs that had fought against the Greeks, his
mother Venus. And she spake to him, saying,—
“See now, for I will take away the mist that covers
thine eyes; see how Neptune with his trident is over
throwing the walls and rooting up the city from its foundations;
and how Juno stands with spear and shield in the
Scæan Gate, and calls fresh hosts from the ships; and
how Pallas sits on the height with the storm-cloud about
her and her Gorgon shield; and how Father Jupiter himself
stirs up the enemy against Troy. Fly, therefore, my
son. I will not leave thee till thou shalt reach thy father’s
house.” And as she spake she vanished in the darkness.
Then did Æneas see dreadful forms and gods who were
the enemies of Troy, and before his eyes the whole city
seemed to sink down into the fire. Even as a mountain
oak upon the hills on which the woodmen ply their axes
bows its head while all its boughs shake about it, till at
last, as blow comes after blow, with a mighty groan it falls
crashing down from the height, even so the city seemed
to fall. Then did Æneas pass on his way, the goddess
leading him, and the flames gave place to him, and the
javelins harmed him not.
But when he was come to his house he bethought him
first of the old man his father; but when he would have
carried him to the hills, Anchises would not, being loath
to live in some strange country when Troy had perished.
“Nay,” said he, “fly ye who are strong and in the flower
of your days. But as for me, if the gods had willed that I
should live, they had saved this dwelling for me. Enough
is it, yea, and more than enough, that once I have seen
this city taken, and lived. Bid me, then, farewell as
though I were dead. Death will I find for myself. And
truly I have long lingered here a useless stock and hated
of the gods since Jupiter smote me with the blast of his
thunder.”
Nor could the old man be moved from his purpose,
though his son and his son’s wife, and even the child
Ascanius, besought him with many tears that he should
not make yet heavier the doom that was upon them.
Then was Æneas minded to go back to the battle and die.
For what hope was left? “Thoughtest thou, my father,”
he cried, “that I should flee and leave thee behind?
What evil word is this that has fallen from thy lips? If
the gods will have it that nought of Troy should be left,
and thou be minded that thou and thine should perish
with the city, be it so. The way is easy; soon will Pyrrhus
be here; Pyrrhus, red with Priam’s blood; Pyrrhus,
who slays the son before the face of the father, and the
father at the altar. Was it for this, kind Mother Venus,
that thou broughtest me safe through fire and sword, to
see the enemy in my home, and my father and my wife
and my son lying slaughtered together? Comrades, give
me my arms, and take me back to the battle. At the
least I will die avenged.”
But as he girded on his arms and would have departed
from the house, his wife Creüsa caught his feet upon the
threshold, staying him, and held out the little Ascanius,
saying, “If thou goest to thy death, take wife and child
with thee; but if thou hopest aught from arms, guard first
the house where thou hast father and wife and child.”
And lo! as she spake there befell a mighty marvel, for
before the face of father and mother there was seen to
shine a light on the head of the boy Ascanius, and to play
upon his waving hair and glitter on his temples. And
when they feared to see this thing, and would have stifled
the flame or quenched it with water, the old man Anchises
in great joy raised his eyes to heaven, and cried aloud,
“O Father Jupiter, if prayer move thee at all, give thine
aid and make this omen sure.” And even as he spake
the thunder rolled on his left hand, and a star shot through
the skies, leaving a long trail of light behind, and passed
over the house-tops till it was hidden in the woods of Ida.
Then the old man lifted himself up and did obeisance to
the star, and said, “I delay no more: whithersoever ye
lead I will follow. Gods of my country, save my house
and my grandson. This omen is of you. And now, my
son, I refuse not to go.”
Then said Æneas, and as he spake the fire came nearer,
and the light was clearer to see, and the heat more fierce,
“Climb, dear father, on my shoulders; I will bear thee,
nor grow weary with the weight. We will be saved or
perish together. The little Ascanius shall go with me, and
my wife follow behind, not over near. And ye, servants
of my house, harken to me; ye mind how that to one who
passes out of the city there is a tomb and a temple of Ceres
in a lonely place, and an ancient cypress-tree hard by.
There will we gather by divers ways. And do thou, my
father, take the holy images in thy hands, for as for me,
who have but newly come from battle, I may not touch
them till I have washed me in the running stream.”
And as he spake he put a cloak of lion’s skin upon his
shoulders, and the old man sat thereon. Ascanius also
laid hold of his hand, and Creüsa followed behind. So he
went in much dread and trembling. For indeed before
sword and spear of the enemy he had not feared, but now
he feared for them that were with him. But when he was
come nigh unto the gates, and the journey was well-nigh
finished, there befell a grievous mischance, for there was
heard a sound as of many feet through the darkness; and
the old man cried to him, “Fly, my son, fly; they are
coming. I see the flashing of shields and swords.” But
as Æneas hasted to go, Creüsa his wife was severed
from him. But whether she wandered from the way or
sat down in weariness, no man may say. Only he saw
her no more, nor knew her to be lost till, all his company
being met at the temple of Ceres, she only was found wanting.
Very grievous did the thing seem to him, nor did he
cease to cry out in his wrath against gods and men. Also
he bade his comrades have a care of his father and his son,
and of the household gods, and girded him again with
arms, and so passed into the city. And first he went to
the wall and to the gate by which he had come forth, and
then to his house, if haply she had returned thither. But
there indeed the men of Greece were come, and the fire
had well-nigh mastered it. And after that he went to the
citadel and to the palace of King Priam. And lo! in the
porch of Juno’s temple, Phœnix and Ulysses were keeping
guard over the spoil, even the treasure of the temples,
tables of the gods, and solid cups of gold, and raiment,
and a long array of them that had been taken captive,
children and women. But not the less did he seek his wife
through all the streets of the city, yea, and called her aloud
by name. But lo! as he called, the image of her whom he
sought seemed to stand before him, only greater than she
had been while she was yet alive. And the spirit spake,
saying, “Why art thou vainly troubled? These things
have not befallen us against the pleasure of the gods. The
ruler of Olympus willeth not that Creüsa should bear thee
company in thy journey. For thou hast a long journey to
take, and many seas to cross, till thou come to the Hesperian
shore, where Lydian Tiber flows softly through a
good land and a fertile. There shalt thou have great prosperity,
and take to thyself a wife of royal race. Weep not
then for Creüsa, whom thou lovest, nor think that I shall
be carried away to be a bond-slave to some Grecian woman.
Such fate befits not a daughter of Dardanus and daughter-in-law
of Venus. The mighty Mother of the gods keepeth
me in this land to serve her. And now, farewell, and love
the young Ascanius, even thy son and mine.”
So spake the spirit, and, when Æneas wept and would
have spoken, vanished out of his sight. Thrice he would
have cast his arms about her neck, and thrice the image
mocked him, being thin as air and fleeting as a dream.
Then, the night being now spent, he sought his comrades,
and found with much joy and wonder that a great company
of men and women were gathered together, and were willing,
all of them, to follow him whithersoever he went.
And now the morning star rose over Mount Ida, and Æneas,
seeing that the Greeks held the city, and that there was
no longer any hope of succor, went his way to the mountains,
taking with him his father.
Now for what remained of that year (for it was the time
of summer when Troy was taken), Æneas, and they that
were gathered to him, builded themselves ships for the
voyage, dwelling the while under Mount Ida; and when
the summer was well-nigh come again the work was finished,
and the old man Anchises commanded that they
should tarry no longer. Whereupon they sailed, taking
also their gods with them.
There was a certain land of Thrace, which the god Mars
loved beyond all other lands, whereof in time past the
fierce Lycurgus, who would have slain Bacchus, was king.
Here, therefore, for the men of the land were friendly, or, at
the least, had been before evil days came upon Troy, Æneas
builded him a city, and called it after his own name. But,
after awhile, as he did sacrifice on a certain day to his
mother, even Venus, that he might have a blessing on his
work, slaying also a white bull to Jupiter, there befell a
certain horrible thing. For hard by the place where he
did sacrifice there was a little hill, with much cornel and
myrtle upon it, whereto Æneas coming would have plucked
wands having leaves upon them, that he might cover therewith
the altars. But lo! when he plucked a wand there
dropped drops of blood therefrom. Whereupon great fear
came on him, and wonder also. And when seeking to
know the cause of the thing he plucked other wands also,
there dropped blood even as before. Then, having prayed
to the nymphs of the land and to Father Mars that they
would turn all evil from him, he essayed the third time
with all his might, setting his knee against the ground, to
pluck forth a wand. Whereupon there issued from the
hill a lamentable voice, saying, “Æneas, why doest thou
me such cruel hurt, nor leavest me in peace in my grave?
For indeed I am no stranger to thee, nor strange is this
blood which thou seest. Fly, for the land is cruel, and
the shore greedy of gain. I am Polydorus. Here I was
pierced through with spears, which have grown into these
wands that thou seest.”
But Æneas when he heard the voice was sore dismayed,
and he remembered him how King Priam, thinking that it
might fare ill with him and the great city of Troy, had
sent his son, Polydorus, by stealth, and much gold with
him, to Polymestor, who was king of Thrace, and how the
king, when Troy had now perished, slew the boy, and took
the gold to himself. For of a truth the love of gold is the
root of all evil. And Æneas told the thing to his father
and to the chiefs; and the sentence of all was that they
should depart from the evil land. But first they made a
great funeral for Polydorus, making a high mound of earth,
and building thereon an altar to the dead. This also they
bound about with garlands of sad-colored wool and cypress,
and the women of Troy stood about it with their
hair loosened, as is the use of them that mourn. They
offered also bowls of warm milk and blood, and laid the
spirit in the tomb, bidding him farewell three times with a
loud voice.
After this, when the time for voyaging was come, and
the south wind blew softly, they launched the ships and set
sail. And first they came to the island of Delos, which,
having been used to wander over the sea, the Lord of the
Silver Bow made fast, binding it to Myconos and Gyaros,
and found there quiet anchorage. And when they landed
to worship, there met them Anius, who was priest and
king of the place, having a crown of bay-leaves about his
head, who knew Anchises for a friend in time past, and
used to them much hospitality. Then did they pray
to the god saying, “Give us, we beseech thee, a home
where we may dwell, and a name upon the earth, and a
city that shall abide, even a second Troy for them that
have escaped from the hands of Achilles and the Greeks.
And do thou answer us, and incline our hearts that we
may know.”
But when Æneas had ended these words, straightway
the place was shaken, even the gates of the temple and
the bay-trees that were hard by. And when they were all
fallen to the ground there came a voice, saying, “Son of
Dardanus, the land that first bare you shall receive you
again. Seek, then, your ancient mother. Then shall the
children of Æneas bear rule over all lands, yea, and their
children’s children to many generations.” Which when
they had heard, they greatly rejoiced, and would fain know
what was the city whither Phœbus would have them go,
that they might cease from their wanderings. Then Anchises,
pondering in his heart the things which he had
learnt from the men of old time, spake thus: “There lieth
in mid-ocean a certain island of Crete, wherein is a
mountain, Ida. There was the first beginning of our nation.
Thence came Teucer, our first father, to the land of
Troy. Let us go, then, whither the gods would send us,
first doing sacrifice to the Winds; and, indeed, if but Jupiter
help us, ’tis but a three days’ journey for our ships.”
So they offered sacrifice, a bull to Neptune and a bull to
the beautiful Apollo, and a black sheep to the Storm and
a white sheep to the West Wind. There came also a
rumor that Idomeneus the Cretan had fled from his
father’s kingdom, and that the land was ready for him
who should take it. Whereupon the men of Troy set sail
with a good heart, and passing among the islands that are
called Cyclades, the wind blowing favorably behind them,
so came to Crete. There they builded a city, and called
its name Pergamea, after Pergama, which was the citadel
of Troy. And for a while they tilled the soil; also they
married and were given in marriage, as purposing to abide
in the land. But there came a wasting sickness on the
men, and a blight also on the trees and harvests, filling
the year with death. The fields likewise were parched
with drought, and the staff of bread was broken. Then
the old Anchises bade them go yet again to the oracle at
Delos, and inquire of the god what end there should be of
these troubles, whence they should seek for help, and
whither they should go.
But as Æneas slept there appeared to him the household
gods, which he had carried out of the burning of
Troy, very clear to see in the light of the moon, which
shone through the window of his chamber. And they
spake unto him, saying, “Apollo bids us tell thee here
that which he will tell thee if thou goest to Delos. We
who have followed thee over many seas, even we will
bring thy children’s children to great honor, and make
their city ruler over many nations. Faint not, therefore,
at thy long wandering. Thou must seek yet another
home. For it was not in Crete that Apollo bade thee
dwell. There is a land which the Greeks call Hesperia;
an ancient land, whose inhabitants are mighty men of
valor; a land of vineyards and wheat. There is our
proper home, and thence came Dardanus our father. Do
thou, therefore, tell these things to the old man Anchises.
Seek ye for the land of Hesperia, which men also call
Italy; but as for Crete, Jupiter willeth not that ye should
dwell there.”
And for a while Æneas lay in great fear, with a cold
sweat upon him, so clear was the vision of those whom he
saw, nor in anywise like unto a dream. Then he rose up
from his bed, and after prayer and sacrifice told the thing
to Anchises. And the old man saw that he had been
deceived in this matter, and he said, “O my son, now do I
remember how Cassandra was wont to prophesy these
things to me, and would speak of Hesperia and of the
land of Italy. But, indeed, no man thought in those days
that the men of Troy should voyage to Hesperia, nor did
any take account of the words of Cassandra. But now let
us heed the oracle of Apollo, and depart.”
So the men of Troy made their ships ready and departed.
And after a while, when they could no more see
the land, there fell a great storm upon them, with a strong
wind and great rolling waves, and much lightning also.
Thus were they driven out of their course, and for three
days and nights saw neither the sun nor the stars. But
on the fourth day they came to a land where they saw
hills, and smoke rising therefrom. Then did the men ply
their oars amain, and soon came to the shore. Now this
place they found to be one of certain islands which men
name the Strophades. And upon these islands dwell
creatures which are called Harpies, very evil indeed, having
the countenances of women and wings like unto the
wings of birds, and long claws. Also their faces are pale
as with much hunger. Now when the men of Troy were
come to this land, they saw many herds of oxen and flocks
of goats thereon, nor any one to watch them. Of these
they slew such as they needed, and, not forgetting to give
due share to the gods, made a great feast upon the shore.
But lo! even while they made merry, there came a great
rushing of wings, and the Harpies came upon them, making
great havoc of the meat and fouling all things most
horribly. And when they had departed, the men of Troy
sought another place where they might do sacrifice and
eat their meat in peace. But when the Harpies had come
thither also and done in the same fashion, Æneas commanded
that the men should draw their swords and do
battle with the beasts. Therefore, the Harpies coming
yet again, Misenus with his trumpet gave the sound for
battle. But lo! they fought as those that beat the air,
seeing that neither sword nor spear availed to wound the
beasts. Then again these departed, one only remaining,
by name, Celæno, who, sitting on a rock, spake after this
fashion: “Do ye purpose, sons of Laomedon, to fight for
these cattle that ye have wrongfully taken, or to drive the
Harpies from their kingdom and inheritance? Hear,
therefore, my words, which indeed the almighty Father
told to Phœbus, and Phœbus told to me. Ye journey to
Italy, and to Italy shall ye come. Only ye shall not build
a city, and wall it about with walls, till dreadful hunger
shall cause you to eat the very tables whereon ye sup.”
So saying, she departed. But when great fear was
fallen upon all, Anchises lifted up his hands to heaven
and prayed to the gods that they would keep that evil
from them.
Then they set sail, and, the south wind blowing, passed
by Zacynthus and Dulichium, and also Ithaca, which they
cursed as they passed, because it was the land of the hateful
Ulysses, and so came to Actium, where they landed.
There also they did sacrifice to the gods, and had games
of wrestling and others, rejoicing that they had passed
safely through so many cities of their enemies. And there
they wintered, and Æneas fixed on the doors of the temple
of Apollo a shield of bronze which he had won in battle
from the valiant Abas, writing thereon these words,
“Æneas dedicates these arms won from the victorious
Greeks.”
But when the spring was come they set sail, and, leaving
behind them the land of Phæacia, came to Buthrotum that
is in Epirus. There indeed they heard a marvellous thing,
even that Helenus, the son of Priam, was king in these
parts, in the room of Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, having
also to wife Andromaché, who was the widow of Hector.
And when Æneas, wishing to know whether these things
were so, journeyed towards the city, lo! in a grove hard by,
by a river which also was called Simoïs, there stood this
same Andromaché, and made offerings to the spirit of
Hector not without many tears. And at the first when
she saw Æneas, and that he wore such arms as the men
of Troy were used to wear, she swooned with fear, but
after a while spake thus: “Is this indeed a real thing that
I see? Art thou alive? or, if thou art dead, tell me, where
is my Hector?” So she cried and wept aloud. And
Æneas answered her: “Yes, lady, this is flesh and blood,
and not a spirit, that thou seest. But as for thee, what
fortune has befallen thee? Art thou still wedded to
Pyrrhus?”
And she, casting down her eyes, made answer, “O
daughter of Priam, happy beyond thy sisters in that thou
wast slain at the tomb of Achilles, nor wast taken to be a
prey of the conqueror! But as for me I was borne across
the sea, to be slave to the haughty son of Achilles. And
when he took to wife Hermione, who was the daughter of
Helen, he gave me to Helenus, as a slave is given to a
slave. But Pyrrhus, after awhile, Orestes slew, taking
him unawares, even by the altar of his father. And when
he was dead, part of his kingdom came to Helenus, who
hath called the land Chaonia, after Chaon of Troy, and
hath also builded a citadel, a new Pergama, upon the hills.
But tell me, was it some storm that drave thee hither, or
chance, or, lastly, some sending of the gods? And is Ascanius
yet alive—the boy whom I remember? Doth he
yet think of his mother that is dead? And is he stout
and of a good courage, as befits the son of Æneas and
sister’s son to Hector?”
And while she spake there came Helenus from the city
with a great company, and bade welcome to his friends with
much joy. And Æneas saw how that all things were
ordered and named even as they had been at Troy, only
the things at Troy had been great, and these were very
small. And afterwards King Helenus made a feast to
them in his house, and they drank together and were merry.
But after certain days were passed, Æneas, seeing that
the wind favored them, spake to Helenus, knowing him
also to be a prophet of the gods: “Tell me now, seeing
that thou art wise in all manner of divination and prophecy,
how it will fare with us. For indeed all things have seemed
to favor us, and we go not on this journey against the will
of the gods, yet did the Harpy Celæno prophesy evil
things, that we should endure great extremity of hunger.
Say, then, of what things I should most beware, and how
I shall best prosper.”
Then Helenus, after due sacrifice, led Æneas to the
temple of Phœbus. And when they were come thither,
and the god had breathed into the seer, even into Helenus,
the spirit of prophecy, he spake, saying, “Son of Venus,
that thou takest thy journey across the sea with favor of
the gods is manifest. Hearken, therefore, and I will inform
thee of certain things, though indeed they be few out of
many, by which thou mayest more safely cross unknown
seas and get thee to thy haven in Italy. Much indeed the
Fates suffer me not to know, and much Juno forbids me
to speak. Know then, first of all, that Italy, which thou
ignorantly thinkest to be close at hand, is yet far away
across many seas. And let this be a sign to thee that
thou art indeed come to the place where thou wouldst be.
When thou shalt see a white sow and thirty pigs at her
teats, then hast thou found the place of thy city that shall
be. And as to the devouring of thy tables for famine, heed
it not: Apollo will help thee at need. But seek not to
find a dwelling-place on this shore of Italy which is near at
hand, seeing that it is inhabited by the accursed sons of
Greece. And when thou hast passed it by, and art come
to the land of Sicily, and shalt see the strait of Pelorus
open before thee, do thou keep to thy left hand and avoid
the way that is on thy right. For here in days past was
the land rent asunder, so that the waters of the sea flow
between cities and fields that of old time were joined together.
And on the right hand is Scylla, and on the left
Charybdis the whirlpool. But Scylla dwelleth in her cave,
a monster dreadful to behold; for to the middle she is a
fair woman, but a beast of the sea below, even the belly of
a dolphin, with heads as of a wolf. Wherefore it will be
better for thee to fetch a compass round the whole land of
Sicily than to come nigh these things, or to see them with
thine eyes. Do thou also remember this, at all places and
times, before all other gods to worship Juno, that thou
mayest persuade her, and so make thy way safely to Italy.
And when thou art come thither, seek the Sibyl that
dwelleth at Cumæ, the mad prophetess that writeth the
sayings of Fate upon the leaves of a tree. For these indeed
at first abide in their places, but, the gate being
opened, the wind blows them hither and thither. And
when they are scattered she careth not to join them again,
so that they who would inquire of her depart without an
answer. Refuse not to tarry awhile, that thou mayest take
counsel of her, though all things seem to prosper thy
journey, and thy comrades chide thy delay. For she shall
tell thee all that shall befall thee in Italy,—what wars
thou shalt wage, and what perils thou must endure, and
what avoid. So much, and no more, is it lawful for me
to utter. Do thou depart, and magnify our country of
Troy even to the heaven.”
And when the seer had ended these sayings, he commanded
his people that they should carry to the ships
gifts: gold, and carvings of ivory, and much silver, and
caldrons that had been wrought at Dodona; also a coat of
chain mail, and a helmet with a fair plume, which Pyrrhus
had worn. Also he gave gifts to the old man Anchises.
Horses, too, he gave, and guides for the journey, and
tackling for the ships, and arms for the whole company.
Then did he bid farewell to the old Anchises. Andromaché
also came, bringing broidered robes, and for Ascanius
a Phrygian cloak, and many like things, which she
gave him, saying, “Take these works of my hands, that
they may witness to thee of the abiding love of her that
was once Hector’s wife. For in truth thou art the very
image of my Astyanax, so like are thy eyes and face and
hands. And indeed he would now be of an age with
thee.” Then Æneas also said farewell, weeping the
while. “Be ye happy, whose wanderings are over and
rest already won; ye have no seas to cross, nor fields of
Italy, still flying as we advance, to seek. Rather ye have
the likeness of Troy before your eyes. And be sure that
if ever I come to this land of Italy which I seek, there
shall be friendship between you and me, and between your
children and my children, forever.”
Then they set sail, and at eventide drew their ships to
the land and slept on the beach. But at midnight Palinurus,
the pilot, rising from his bed, took note of the winds
and of the stars, even of Arcturus, and the Greater Bear
and the Less, and Orion with his belt of gold. Seeing
therefore that all things boded fair weather to come, he
blew loud the signal that they should depart; which they
did forthwith. And when the morning was now growing
red in the east, behold a land with hills dimly seen and
shores lying low in the sea. And, first of all, the old man
Anchises cried, “Lo! there is Italy,” and after him all
the company. Then took Anchises a mighty cup, and
filled it with wine, and, standing on the stern, said, “Gods
of sea and land, and ye that have power of the air, give us
an easy journey, and send such winds as may favor us.”
And even as he spake the wind blew more strongly
behind. Also the harbor mouth grew wider to behold,
and on the hills was seen a temple of Minerva. And lo!
upon the shore four horses white as snow, which the old
man seeing, said, “Thou speakest of war, land of the
stranger; for the horse signifieth war, yet doth he also use
himself to run in the chariot, and to bear the bit in company;
therefore also will we hope for peace.” Then did
they sacrifice to Minerva, and to Juno also, which rites
the seer Helenus had chiefly commanded. And this
being done they trimmed their sails and departed from the
shore, fearing lest some enemy, the Greeks being in that
place, should set upon them. So did they pass by Tarentum,
which Hercules builded, also the hills of Caulon, and
Scylacium, where many ships are broken. And from Scylacium
they beheld Ætna, and heard a great roaring of the
sea, and saw also the waves rising up to heaven. Then
said Anchises, “Lo! this is that Charybdis whereof the
seer Helenus spake to us. Ply your oars, my comrades,
and let us fly therefrom.” So they strove amain in rowing,
and Palinurus also steered to the left, all the other
ships following him. And many times the waves lifted
them to the heaven, and many times caused them to go
down to the deep. But at the last, at setting of the sun,
they came to the land of the Cyclops.
There, indeed, they lay in a harbor, well sheltered from
all winds that blow, but all the night Ætna thundered
dreadfully, sending forth a cloud with smoke of pitch, and
ashes fiery hot, and also balls of fire, and rocks withal that
had been melted with heat. For indeed men say that the
giant Enceladus lieth under this mountain, being scorched
with the lightning of Jupiter, and that from him cometh
forth this flame; also that when, being weary, he turneth
from one side to the other, the whole land of the Three
Capes is shaken. All that night they lay in much fear,
nor knew what the cause of this uproar might be, for indeed
the sky was cloudy, nor could the moon be seen.
And when it was morning, lo! there came forth from
the woods a stranger, very miserable to behold, in filthy
garments fastened with thorns, and with beard unshaven,
who stretched out to them his hands as one who prayed.
And the men of Troy knew him to be a Greek. But he,
seeing them, and knowing of what country they were,
stood awhile in great fear, but afterwards ran very swiftly
towards them, and used to them many prayers, weeping
also the while. “I pray you, men of Troy, by the stars
and by the gods, and by this air which we breathe, to take
me away from this land, whithersoever ye will. And
indeed I ask not whither. That I am a Greek, I confess,
and also that I bare arms against Troy. Wherefore
drown me, if ye will, in the sea. Only let me die, if die I
must, by the hands of men.”
And he clung to their knees. Then Æneas bade him
tell who he was, and how he came to be in this plight
And the man made answer, “I am a man of Ithaca, and a
comrade of the unhappy Ulysses. My name is Achæmenides,
and my father was Adamastus. And when my
comrades fled from this accursed shore, they left me in the
Cyclops’ cave. Hideous is he to see, and savage, and of
exceeding great stature, and he feeds on the flesh of men.
I myself saw with these eyes how he lay and caught two
of my companions and brake them on the stone; aye, and
I saw their limbs quiver between his teeth. Yet did he
not do such things unpunished, for Ulysses endured not
to behold these deeds, and when the giant lay asleep,
being overcome with wine, we, after prayer made to the
gods, and lots cast what each should do, bored out his eye,
for one eye he had, huge as a round shield of Argos, or as
the circle of the sun, and so did we avenge our comrades’
death. Do ye then fly with all the speed ye may. For
know that as this shepherd Polyphemus—a shepherd he
is by trade—so are a hundred other Cyclopés, huge and
savage as he, who dwell on these shores and wander over
the hills. And now for three months have I dwelt in
these woods, eating berries and cornels and herbs of the
field. And when I saw your ships, I hastened to meet
them. Do ye with me, therefore, as ye will, so that I flee
from this accursed race.”
And even while he spake the men of Troy saw the
shepherd Polyphemus among his flocks, and that he made
as if he would come to the shore. Horrible to behold was
he, huge and shapeless and blind. And when he came to
the sea, he washed the blood from the wound, grinding his
teeth the while; and though he went far into the sea, yet
did not the waves touch his middle. And the men of
Troy, having taken the suppliant on board, fled with all
their might; and he hearing their rowing would have
reached to them, but could not. Therefore did he shout
aloud, and the Cyclopés hearing him, hasted to the shore.
Then did the men of Troy behold them, a horrid company,
tall as a grove of oaks or cypresses. Nor knew they in
their fear what they should do, seeing that on the one
hand was the land of the Cyclopés, and on the other
Scylla and Charybdis, of which the seer Helenus had
bidden them beware. But while they doubted, there blew
a north wind from Pelorus, wherewith they sailed onwards,
and Achæmenides with them. So they came to Ortygia,
whither, as men say, the river Alpheüs floweth under
the sea from the land of Pelops, and so mingleth with
Arethusa; and afterwards they passed the promontory of
Pachynus, Camarina also, and Gela, and other cities likewise,
till they came to Lilybæum, and so at last to Drepanum.
There the old man Anchises died, and was buried.
Not many days after Æneas and his companions set sail.
But scarce were they out of sight of the land of Sicily
when Juno espied them. Very wroth was she that they
should be now drawing near to the end of their journey, and
she said to herself, “Shall I be balked of my purpose nor
be able to keep these men of Troy from Italy? Minerva,
indeed, because one man sinned, even Ajax Oïleus, burned
the fleet of the Greeks, and drowned the men in the sea.
For the ships she smote with the thunderbolts of Jupiter;
and as for Ajax, him she caught up with a whirlwind,
and dashed him upon the rocks, piercing him through.
Only I, though I be both sister and wife to Jupiter,
avail nothing against this people. And who that heareth
this in after time shall pay me due honor and sacrifice?”
Then she went, thinking these things in her heart, to
the land of Æolia, where King Æolus keepeth the winds
under bolt and bar. Mightily do they roar within the
mountain, but their King restraineth them and keepeth
them in bounds, being indeed set to do this very thing,
lest they should carry both the heavens and the earth before
them in their great fury. To him said Juno, “O Æolus,
whom Jupiter hath made king of the winds, a nation which
I hate is sailing over the Tuscan sea. Loose now thy
storms against them, and drown their ships in the sea.
And hearken what I will do for thee. Twelve maidens I
have that wait on me continually, who are passing fair, and
the fairest of all, even Deïopea, I will give thee to wife.”
To whom answered King Æolus, “It is for thee, O
Queen, to order what thou wilt, it being of thy gift that I
hold this sovereignty and eat at the table of the gods.”
So saying he drave in with his spear the folding-doors of
the prison of the winds, and these straightway in a great
host rushed forth, even all the winds together, and rolled
great waves upon the shore. And straightway there arose
a great shouting of men and straining of cables; nor could
the sky nor the light of the day be seen any more, but a
darkness as of night came down upon the sea, and there
were thunders and lightnings over the whole heavens.
Then did Æneas grow cold with fear; and stretching out
his hands to heaven, he cried, “Happy they who fell under
the walls of Troy, before their fathers’ eyes! Would to
the gods that thou hadst slain me, Diomed, bravest of the
Greeks, even as Hector fell by the spear of Achilles, or
tall Sarpedon, or all the brave warriors whose dead bodies
Simoïs rolled down to the sea!”
But as he spake a blast of wind struck his sails from
before, and his ship was turned broad-side to the waves.
Three others also were tossed upon the rocks which men
call the “Altars,” and three into the quicksands of the
Syrtis. And another, in which sailed the men of Lycia,
with Orontes, their chief, was struck upon the stern by a
great sea and sunk. And when Æneas looked, lo! there
were some swimming in the waves, and broken planks also,
and arms and treasures of Troy. Others also were shattered
by the waves, and those of Ilioneüs and Achates, and
of Abas and the old man Alethes.
But King Neptune was aware of the tumult where he
sat at the bottom of the sea, and raising his head above the
waves, looked forth and saw how the ships were scattered
abroad and the men of Troy were in sore peril. Also he
knew his sister’s wrath and her craft. Then he called to
him the winds and said, “What is this, ye winds, that ye
trouble heaven and earth without leave of me? Now will
I—but I must first bid the waves be still, only be sure
that ye shall not thus escape hereafter. Begone, and tell
your King that the dominion over the sea belongeth unto
me, and bid him keep him to his rocks.”
Then he bade the waves be still; also he scattered the
clouds and brought back the sun. And Cymothea and
Triton, gods of the sea, drew the ships from the rocks,
Neptune also lifting them with his trident. Likewise he
opened the quicksands, and delivered the ships that were
therein. And this being done he crossed the sea in his
chariot, and the waves beholding him sank to rest, even as
it befalls when there is sedition in the city, and the people
are wroth, and men throw stones and firebrands, till lo!
of a sudden there cometh forth a reverend sire, a good man
and true, and all men are silent and hearken to him, and
the uproar is stayed. So was the sea stilled, beholding
its King.
Then Æneas and his companions, being sore wearied
with the storm, made for the nearest shore, even Africa,
where they found a haven running far into the land, into
which the waves come not till their force be spent. On
either side thereof are cliffs very high, and shining woods
over them. Also at the harbor’s head is a cave and a
spring of sweet water within, a dwelling-place of the
Nymphs. Hither came Æneas, with seven ships. Right
glad were the men of Troy to stand upon the dry land again.
Then Achates struck a spark out of flint, and they lighted
a fire with leaves and the like; also they took of the wheat
which had been in the ships, and made ready to parch and
to bruise it, that they might eat. Meanwhile Æneas had
climbed the cliff, if haply he might see some of his companions’
ships. These indeed he saw not, but he espied
three great stags upon the shore and a herd following
them. Wherefore, taking the arrows and the bow which
Achates bare with him, he let fly, slaying the leaders and
others also, till he had gotten seven, one for each ship.
Then made he his way to the landing-place, and divided
the prey. Also he made distribution of the wine which
Acestes, their host in Sicily, had given them as they were
about to depart, and spake comfortable words to them, saying,
“O my friends, be ye sure that there will be an end
to these troubles; and indeed ye have suffered worse things
before. Be ye of good cheer therefore. Haply ye shall
one day have pleasure in thinking of these things. For
be sure that the gods have prepared a dwelling-place for
us in Italy, where we shall build a new Troy, in great
peace and happiness. Wherefore endure unto the day of
prosperity.”
Then they made ready the feast, and roasted of the meat
upon spits, and boiled other in water. Also they drank of
the wine and were comforted. And after supper they
talked much of them that were absent, doubting whether
they were alive or dead.
All these things did Jupiter behold; and even as he beheld
them there came to him Venus, having a sad countenance
and her shining eyes dim with tears, and spake: “O
great Father, that rulest all things, what have Æneas and
the men of Troy sinned against thee, that the whole world
is shut against them? Didst not thou promise that they
should rule over land and sea? Why, then, art thou
turned back from thy purpose? With this I was wont to
comfort myself for the evil fate of Troy, but lo! this same
fate follows them still, nor is there any end to their troubles.
And yet it was granted to Antenor, himself also a
man of Troy, that he should escape from the Greeks, and
coming to the Liburnian land, where Timavus flows with
much noise into the sea, build a city and find rest for himself.
But we, who are thy children, are kept far from the
land which thou hast sworn to give us.”
Then her father kissed her once and again, and answered
smiling, “Fear not, my daughter, the fate of thy children
changeth not. Thou shalt see this city for which thou
lookest, and shalt receive thy son, the great-hearted
Æneas, into the heavens. Hearken, therefore, and I will
tell thee things to come. Æneas shall war with the
nations of Italy, and shall subdue them, and build a city,
and rule therein for three years. And after the space of
thirty years shall the boy Ascanius, who shall hereafter be
called Iülus also, change the place of his throne from Lavinium
unto Alba; and for three hundred years shall
there be kings in Alba of the kindred of Hector. Then
shall a priestess bear to Mars twin sons, whom a she-wolf
shall suckle; of whom the one, even Romulus, shall build
a city, dedicating it to Mars, and call it Rome, after his
own name. To which city have I given empire without
bound or end. And Juno also shall repent her of her
wrath, and join counsel with me, cherishing the men of
Rome, so that they shall bear rule even over Argos and
Mycenæ.”
And when he had said this, he sent down his messenger,
even Mercury, to turn the heart of Dido and her
people, where they dwelt in the city of Carthage, which
they had builded, so that they should deal kindly with
the strangers.
Now it came to pass on the next day that Æneas,
having first hidden his ships in a bay that was well
covered with trees, went forth to spy out the new land
whither he was come, and Achates only went with him.
And Æneas had in each hand a broad-pointed spear.
And as he went there met him in the middle of the wood
his mother, but habited as a Spartan virgin, for she had
hung a bow from her shoulders after the fashion of a
huntress, and her hair was loose, and her tunic short to
the knees, and her garments gathered in a knot upon her
breast. Then first the false huntress spake, “If perchance
ye have seen one of my sisters wandering hereabouts,
make known to me the place. She is girded with
a quiver, and is clothed with the skin of a spotted lynx,
or, may be, she hunts a wild boar with horn and hound.”
To whom Æneas, “I have not seen nor heard sister of
thine, O virgin—for what shall I call thee? for, of a
surety, neither is thy look as of a mortal woman, nor yet
thy voice. A goddess certainly thou art, sister of Phœbus,
or, haply, one of the nymphs. But whosoever thou
art, look favorably upon us and help us. Tell us in what
land we be, for the winds have driven us hither, and we
know not aught of place or people.”
And Venus said, “Nay, stranger, I am not such as ye
think. We virgins of Tyre are wont to carry a quiver
and to wear a buskin of purple. For indeed it is a Tyrian
city that is hard by, though the land be Lybia. And of
this city Dido is Queen, having come hither from Tyre,
flying from the wrong-doing of her brother. And indeed
the story of the thing is long, but I will recount the chief
matter thereof to thee. The husband of this Dido was
one Sichæus, richest among all the men of Phœnicia, and
greatly beloved of his wife, whom he married from a virgin.
Now the brother of this Sichæus was Pygmalion, the
King of the country, and he exceeded all men in wickedness.
And when there arose a quarrel between them,
the King, being exceedingly mad after gold, took him unaware,
even as he did sacrifice at the altar, and slew him.
And the King hid the matter many days from Dido, and
cheated her with false hopes. But at the last there came
to her in her dreams the likeness of the dead man, baring
his wounds and showing the wickedness which had been
done. Also he bade her make haste and fly from that
land, and, that she might do this the more easily, told her
of great treasure, gold and silver, that was hidden in the
earth. And Dido, being much moved by these things,
made ready for flight; also she sought for companions,
and there came together to her all as many as hated the
King or feared him. Then did they seize ships that
chanced to be ready, and laded them with gold, even the
treasure of King Pygmalion, and so fled across the sea.
And in all this was a woman the leader. Then came
they to this place, where thou seest the walls and citadel
of Carthage, and bought so much land as they could cover
with a bull’s hide. And now do ye answer me this,
Whence come ye, and whither do ye go?”
Then answered Æneas, “Should I tell the whole story
of our wanderings, and thou have leisure to hear, evening
would come ere I could make an end. We are men of
Troy, who, having journeyed over many seas, have now
been driven by storms to this shore of Lybia. And as
for me, men call me the Prince Æneas. The land I seek
is Italy, and my race is from Jupiter himself. With
twenty ships did I set sail, going in the way whereon the
gods sent me. And of these scarce seven are left. And
now, seeing that Europe and Asia endure me not, I wander
over the desert places of Africa.”
But Venus suffered him not to speak more, but said,
“Whoever thou art, stranger, that art come to this Tyrian
city, thou art surely beloved by the gods. And now go,
show thyself to the Queen. And as for thy ships and thy
companions, I tell that they are safe in the haven, if I
have not learnt augury in vain. See those twenty swans,
how joyously they fly! And now there cometh an eagle
swooping down from the sky, putting them to confusion;
but now again they move in due order, and some are settling
on the earth and some preparing to settle. Even so
doth it fare with thy ships, for either are they already in
the haven or enter thereinto with sails full set.”
And as she spake she turned away, and there shone a
rosy light from her neck; also there came from her hair a
sweet savor as of ambrosia, and her garments grew unto
her feet; and Æneas perceived that she was his mother,
and cried aloud,—
“O my mother, why dost thou mock me so often with
false shows, nor sufferest me to join my hand unto thy
hand, and to speak with thee face to face?”
And he went towards the walls of the city. But Venus
covered him and his companions with a mist, that no man
might see them, or hinder them, or inquire of their business,
and then departed to Paphos, where was her temple
and also many altars of incense. Then the men hastened
on their way, and mounting a hill which hung over the
city, marvelled to behold it, for indeed it was very great
and noble, with mighty gates and streets, and a multitude
that walked therein. For some built the walls and the
citadel, rolling great stones with their hands, and others
marked out places for houses. Also they chose those that
should give judgment and bear rule in the city. Some,
too, digged out harbors, and others laid the foundations of
a theatre, and cut out great pillars of stone. Like to
bees they were, when, the summer being newly come, the
young swarms go forth, or when they labor filling the cells
with honey, and some receive the burdens of those that
return from the fields, and others keep off the drones from
the hive. Even so labored the men of Tyre. And when
Æneas beheld them he cried, “Happy ye, who even now
have a city to dwell in!” And being yet hidden by the
mist, he went in at the gate and mingled with the men,
being seen of none.
Now in the midst of the city was a wood, very thick
with trees, and here the men of Carthage, first coming to
the land from their voyage, had digged out of the ground
that which Juno had said should be a sign to them, even a
horse’s head! for that, finding this, their city would be
mighty in war, and full of riches. Here, then, Dido was
building a temple to Juno, very splendid, with threshold of
bronze, and many steps thereunto; of bronze also were
the door-posts and the gates. And here befell a thing
which gave much comfort and courage to Æneas; for as
he stood and regarded the place, waiting also for the
Queen, he saw set forth in order upon the walls the battles
that had been fought at Troy, the sons of Atreus also,
and King Priam, and fierce Achilles. Then said he, not
without tears, “Is there any land, O Achates, that is not
filled with our sorrows? Seest thou Priam? Yet withal
there is a reward for virtue here also, and tears and pity
for the troubles of men. Fear not, therefore. Surely the
fame of these things shall profit us.”
Then he looked, satisfying his soul with the paintings
on the walls. For there was the city of Troy. In this
part of the field the Greeks fled and the youth of Troy
pursued them, and in that the men of Troy fled, and
Achilles followed hard upon them in his chariot. Also he
saw the white tents of Rhesus, King of Thrace, whom the
fierce Diomed slew in his sleep, when he was newly come
to Troy, and drave his horses to the camp before they ate
of the grass of the fields of Troy or drank the waters of
Xanthus. There also Troïlus was pictured, ill-matched in
battle with the great Achilles. His horses bare him along;
but he lay on his back in the chariot, yet holding the
reins, and his neck and head were dragged upon the earth,
and the spear-point made a trail in the dust. And in
another place the women of Troy went suppliant-wise to
the temple of Minerva, bearing a great and beautiful robe,
sad and beating their breasts, and with hair unbound; but
the goddess regarded them not. Also Achilles dragged
the body of Hector three times round the walls of Troy,
and was selling it for gold. And Æneas groaned when
he saw the man whom he loved, and the old man Priam
reaching out helpless hands. Also he knew himself, fighting
in the midst of the Grecian chiefs; black Memnon
also he knew, and the hosts of the East; and Penthesilea
leading the army of the Amazons with shields shaped as
the moon. Fierce she was to see, with one breast bared
for battle, and a golden girdle beneath it, a damsel daring
to fight with men.
But while Æneas marvelled to see these things, lo!
there came, with a great throng of youths behind her,
Dido, most beautiful of women, fair as Diana, when, on
the banks of Eurotas or on the hills of Cynthus, she leads
the dance with a thousand nymphs of the mountains about
her. On her shoulder she bears a quiver, and overtops
them all, and her mother, even Latona, silently rejoices to
behold her. So fair and seemly to see was Dido as she
bare herself right nobly in the midst, being busy in the
work of her kingdom. Then she sat herself down on a
lofty throne in the gate of the temple, with many armed
men about her. And she did justice between man and
man; also she divided the work of the city, sharing it
equally or parting it by lot.
Then of a sudden Æneas heard a great clamor, and saw
a company of men come quickly to the place, among
whom were Antheus and Sergestus and Cloanthus, and
others of the men of Troy that had been parted from him
in the storm. Right glad was he to behold them, yet was
not without fear; and though he would fain have come
forth and caught them by the hand, yet did he tarry, waiting
to hear how the men had fared, where they had left
their ships, and wherefore they were come.
Then Ilioneus, leave being now given that he should
speak, thus began: “O Queen, whom Jupiter permits to
build a new city in these lands, we men of Troy, whom
the winds have carried over many seas, pray thee that
thou save our ships from fire, and spare a people that
serveth the gods. For, indeed, we are not come to waste
the dwellings of this land, or to carry off the spoils to our
ships. For, of a truth, they who have suffered so much
think not of such deeds. There is a land which the
Greeks call Hesperia, but the people themselves Italy,
after the name of their chief; an ancient land, mighty in
arms and fertile of corn. Hither were we journeying,
when a storm arising scattered our ships, and only these
few that thou seest escaped to the land. And can there be
nation so savage that it receiveth not shipwrecked men on
its shore, but beareth arms against them, and forbiddeth
them to land? Nay, but if ye care not for men, yet regard
the gods, who forget neither them that do righteously
nor them that transgress. We had a king, Æneas, than
whom there lived not a man more dutiful to gods and men
and greater in war. If indeed he be yet alive, then we
fear not at all. For of a truth it will not repent thee to
have helped us. And if not, other friends have we, as
Acestes of Sicily. Grant us, therefore, to shelter our
ships from the wind: also to fit them with fresh timber
from the woods, and to make ready oars for rowing, so
that, finding again our King and our companions, we may
gain the land of Italy. But if he be dead, and Ascanius
his son lost also, then there is a dwelling ready for us in
the land of Sicily, with Acestes, who is our friend.”
Then Dido, her eyes bent on the ground, thus spake,
“Fear not, men of Troy. If we have seemed to deal
harshly with you, pardon us, seeing that, being newly settled
in this land, we must keep watch and ward over our
coasts. But as for the men of Troy, and their deeds in
arms, who knows them not? Think not that we in Carthage
are so dull of heart, or dwell so remote from man
that we are ignorant of these things. Whether, therefore,
ye will journey to Italy, or rather return to Sicily and
King Acestes, know that I will give you all help, and protect
you; or, if ye will, settle in this land of ours. Yours
is this city which I am building. I will make no difference
between man of Troy and man of Tyre. Would that your
King also were here! Surely I will send those that shall
seek him in all parts of Libya, lest haply he should be
gone astray in any forest or strange city of the land.”
And when Æneas and Achates heard these things, they
were glad, and would have come forth from the cloud, and
Achates said, “What thinkest thou? Lo, thy comrades
are safe, saving him whom we saw with our own eyes
drowned in the waves; and all other things are according
as thy mother said.”
And even as he spake the cloud parted from about them,
and Æneas stood forth, very bright to behold, with face
and breast as of a god, for his mother had given to him
hair beautiful to see, and cast about him the purple light
of youth, even as a workman sets ivory in some fair ornament,
or compasseth about silver or marble of Paros with
gold. Then spake he to the Queen, “Lo! I am he whom
ye seek, even Æneas of Troy, scarcely saved from the
waters of the sea. And as for thee, O Queen, seeing that
thou only hast been found to pity the unspeakable sorrows
of Troy, and biddest us, though we be but poor exiles and
lacking all things, to share thy city and thy home, may the
gods do so to thee as thou deservest. And, of a truth, so
long as the rivers run to the seas, and the shadows fall on
the hollows of the hills, so long will thy name and thy
glory survive, whatever be the land to which the gods shall
bring me.” Then gave he his right hand to Ilioneus, and
his left hand to Sergestus, and greeted him with great
joy.
And Dido, hearing these things, was silent for a while,
but at last she spake: “What ill fortune brings thee into
perils so great? what power drave thee to these savage
shores? Well do I mind me how in days gone by there
came to Sidon one Teucer, who, having been banished
from his country, sought help from Belus that he might
find a kingdom for himself. And it chanced that in those
days Belus, my father, had newly conquered the land of
Cyprus. From that day did I know the tale of Troy, and
thy name also, and the chiefs of Greece. Also I remember
that Teucer spake honorably of the men of Troy,
saying that he was himself sprung of the old Teucrian
stock. Come ye, therefore, to my palace. I too have
wandered far, even as you, and so have come to this land,
and having suffered much, have learnt to succor them that
suffer.”
So saying she led Æneas into her palace; also she sent
to his companions in the ships great store of provisions,
even twenty oxen, and a hundred bristly swine, and a hundred
ewe sheep with their lambs. But in the palace a
great feast was set forth, couches covered with broidered
purple, and silver vessels without end, and cups of gold,
whereon were embossed the mighty deeds of the men of
old time.
And in the mean time Æneas sent Achates in haste to
the ships, that he might fetch Ascanius to the feast. Also
he bade that the boy should bring with him gifts of such
things as they had saved from the ruins of Troy, a mantle
stiff with broidery of gold and a veil broidered with yellow
acanthus, which the fair Helen had taken with her, flying
from her home; but Leda, her mother, had given them to
Helen; a sceptre likewise which Ilione, first-born of the
daughters of Priam, had carried, and a necklace of pearls,
and a double crown of jewels and gold.
But Venus was troubled in heart, fearing evil to her son
should the men of Tyre be treacherous, after their wont,
and Juno remembered her wrath. Wherefore, taking
counsel with herself, she called to the winged boy, even
Love, that was her son, and spake, “My son, who art all
my power and strength, who laughest at the thunders of
Jupiter, thou knowest how Juno, being exceedingly wroth
against thy brother Æneas, causeth him to wander out of
the way over all lands. This day Dido hath him in her
palace, and speaketh him fair; but I fear me much how
these things may end. Wherefore hear thou that which I
purpose. Thy brother hath even now sent for the boy
Ascanius, that he may come to the palace, bringing with
him gifts of such things as they saved from the ruins of
Troy. Him will I cause to fall into a deep sleep, and hide
in Cythera or Idalium, and do thou for one night take upon
thee his likeness. And when Queen Dido at the feast
shall hold thee in her lap, and kiss and embrace thee, do
thou breathe by stealth thy fire into her heart.”
Then did Love as his mother bade him, and put off his
wings, and took upon him the shape of Ascanius, but on
the boy Venus caused there to fall a deep sleep, and carried
him to the woods of Idalium, and lapped him in sweet-smelling
flowers. And in his stead Love carried the gifts
to the Queen. And when he was come they sat down to
the feast, the Queen being in the midst under a canopy.
Æneas also and the men of Troy lay on coverlets of purple,
to whom serving-men brought water and bread in baskets
and napkins; and within fifty handmaids were ready
to replenish the store of victual and to fan the fire; and
a hundred others, with pages as many, loaded the tables
with dishes and drinking-cups. Many men of Tyre also
were bidden to the feast. Much they marvelled at the
gifts of Æneas, and much at the false Ascanius. Dido
also could not satisfy herself with looking on him, nor
knew what trouble he was preparing for her in the time to
come. And he, having first embraced the father who was
not his father, and clung about his neck, addressed himself
to Queen Dido, and she ever followed him with her
eyes, and sometimes would hold him on her lap. And
still he worked upon her that she should forget the dead
Sichæus and conceive a new love in her heart.
But when they first paused from the feast, lo! men set
great bowls upon the table and filled them to the brim
with wine. Then did the Queen call for a great vessel of
gold, with many jewels upon it, from which Belus, and all
the kings from Belus, had drunk, and called for wine, and
having filled it, she cried, “O Jupiter, whom they call the
god of hosts and guests, cause that this be a day of joy for
the men of Troy and for them of Tyre, and that our children
remember it forever. Also, Bacchus, giver of joy, be
present, and kindly Juno.” And when she had touched
the wine with her lips, she handed the great cup to Prince
Bitias, who drank thereout a mighty draught, and the
other princes after him. Then the minstrel Iopas, whom
Atlas himself had taught, sang to the harp, of the moon,
how she goes on her way, and of the sun, how his light is
darkened. He sang also of men, and of the beasts of the
field, whence they come; and of the stars, Arcturus, and
the Greater Bear and the Less, and the Hyades; and of
the winter sun, why he hastens to dip himself in the
ocean; and of the winter nights, why they tarry so long.
The Queen also talked much of the story of Troy, of
Priam, and of Hector, asking many things, as of the arms
of Memnon, and of the horses of Diomed, and of Achilles,
how great he was. And at last she said to Æneas, “Tell
us now thy story, how Troy was taken, and thy wanderings
over land and sea.” And Æneas made answer,
“Nay, O Queen, but thou biddest me renew a sorrow
unspeakable. Yet, if thou art minded to hear these
things, hearken.” And he told her all that had befallen
him, even to the day when his father Anchises died.
Much was Queen Dido moved by the story, and much
did she marvel at him that told it, and scarce could sleep
for thinking of him. And the next day she spake to
Anna, her sister, “O my sister, I have been troubled this
night with ill dreams, and my heart is disquieted within
me. What a man is this stranger that hath come to our
shores! How noble of mien! How bold in war! Sure
I am that he is of the sons of the gods. What fortunes
have been his! Of what wars he told us! Surely were I
not steadfastly purposed that I would not yoke me again
in marriage, this were the man to whom I might yield.
Only he—for I will tell thee the truth, my sister—only
he, since the day when Sichæus died by his brother’s hand,
hath moved my heart. But may the earth swallow me
up, or the almighty Father strike me with lightning, ere I
stoop to such baseness. The husband of my youth hath
carried with him my love, and he shall keep it in his
grave.”
So she spake, with many tears. And her sister made
answer, “Why wilt thou waste thy youth in sorrow, without
child or husband? Thinkest thou that there is care
or remembrance of such things in the grave? No suitors
indeed have pleased thee here or in Tyre, but wilt thou
also contend with a love that is after thine own heart?
Think too of the nations among whom thou dwellest, how
fierce they are, and of thy brother at Tyre, what he
threatens against thee. Surely it was by the will of the
gods, and of Juno chiefly, that the ships of Troy came
hither. And this city which thou buildest, to what
greatness will it grow if only thou wilt make for thyself
such alliance! How great will be the glory of Carthage
if the strength of Troy be joined unto her! Only do thou
pray to the gods and offer sacrifices; and, for the present,
seeing that the time of sailing is now past, make excuse
that these strangers tarry with thee awhile.”
Thus did Anna comfort her sister and encourage her.
And first the two offered sacrifice to the gods, chiefly to
Juno, who careth for the bond of marriage. Also, examining
the entrails of slain beasts, they sought to learn
the things that should happen thereafter. And ever Dido
would company with Æneas, leading him about the walls
of the city which she builded. And often she would
begin to speak and stay in the midst of her words. And
when even was come, she would hear again and again at
the banquet the tale of Troy, and while others slept would
watch, and while he was far away would seem to see him
and to hear him. Ascanius, too, she would embrace for
love of his father, if so she might cheat her own heart.
But the work of the city was stayed meanwhile; nor did
the towers rise in their places, nor the youth practise
themselves in arms.
Then Juno, seeing how it fared with the Queen, spake
to Venus, “Are ye satisfied with your victory, thou and
thy son, that ye have vanquished the two of you one
woman? Well I knew that thou fearedst lest this Carthage
should harm thy favorite. But why should there be
war between us? Thou hast what thou seekedst. Let us
make alliance. Let Dido obey a Phrygian husband, and
bring the men of Tyre as her dowry.”
But Venus knew that she spake with ill intent, to the
end that the men of Troy should not reign in the land of
Italy. Nevertheless she dissembled with her tongue, and
spake, “Who would not rather have peace with thee than
war? Only I doubt whether this thing shall be to the
pleasure of Jupiter. This thou must learn, seeing that
thou art his wife, and where thou leadest I will follow.”
So the two, taking counsel together, ordered things in
this wise. The next day a great hunting was prepared.
For as soon as ever the sun was risen upon the earth, the
youth of the city assembled, with nets and hunting-spears,
and dogs that ran by scent. And the princes of Carthage
waited for the Queen at the palace door, where her horse
stood champing the bit, with trappings of purple and gold.
And after a while she came forth with many following her.
And she had upon her a Sidonian mantle, with a border
wrought with divers colors; of gold was her quiver, and of
gold the knot of her hair, and of gold the clasp to her
mantle. Æneas likewise came forth, beautiful as is Apollo
when he leaveth Lydia and the stream of Xanthus, coming
to Delos, and hath about his hair a wreath of bay-leaves
and a circlet of gold. So fair was Æneas to see. And
when the hunters came to the hills, they found great store
of goats and stags, which they chased. And of all the
company Ascanius was the foremost, thinking scorn of
such hunting, and wishing that a wild boar or a lion out of
the hills should come forth to be his prey.
And now befell a great storm, with much thunder and
hail, from which the hunters sought shelter. But Æneas and
the Queen, being left of all their company, came together
to the same cave. And there they plighted their troth
one to another. Nor did the Queen after that make secret
of her love, but called Æneas her husband. Straightway
went Rumor and told these things through the cities of
Libya. Now Rumor, men say, is the youngest daughter
of Earth, a marvellous creature, moving very swiftly with
feet and wings, and having many feathers upon her, and
under every feather an eye and a tongue and a mouth and
an ear. In the night she flieth between heaven and earth,
and sleepeth not; and in the day she sitteth on some
housetop or lofty tower, or spreadeth fear over mighty
cities; and she loveth that which is false even as she
loveth that which is true. So now she went telling
through Libya how Æneas of Troy was come, and Dido
was wedded to him, and how they lived careless and at
ease, and thinking not of the work to which they were
called.
And first of all she went to Prince Iarbas, who himself
had sought Dido in marriage. And Iarbas was very wroth
when he heard it, and, coming to the temple of Jupiter,
spread his grief before the god, how that he had given a
place on his coasts to this Dido, and would have taken
her to wife, but that she had married a stranger from
Phrygia, another Paris, whose dress and adornments were
of a woman rather than of a man.
And Jupiter saw that this was so, and he said to Mercury,
who was his messenger, “Go, speak to Æneas these
words: ‘Thus saith the King of gods and men. Is this
what thy mother promised of thee, twice saving thee from
the spear of the Greeks? Art thou he that shall rule
Italy and its mighty men of war, and spread thy dominion
to the ends of the world? If thou thyself forgettest these
things, dost thou grudge to thy son the citadels of Rome?
What dost thou here? Why lookest thou not to Italy?
Depart and tarry not.’”
Then Mercury fitted the winged sandals to his feet, and
took the wand with which he driveth the spirits of the
dead, and came right soon to Mount Atlas, which standeth
bearing the heaven on his head, and having always clouds
about his top, and snow upon his shoulders, and a beard
that is stiff with ice. There Mercury stood awhile; then,
as a bird which seeks its prey in the sea, shot headlong
down, and came to Æneas where he stood, with a yellow
jasper in his sword-hilt, and a cloak of purple shot with
gold about his shoulders, and spake: “Buildest thou Carthage,
forgetting thine own work? The almighty Father
saith to thee, ‘What meanest thou? Why tarriest thou
here? If thou carest not for thyself, yet think of thy son,
and that the Fates have given to him Italy and Rome.’”
And Æneas saw him no more. And he stood stricken
with fear and doubt. Fain would he obey the voice, and
go as the gods commanded. But how should he tell this
purpose to the Queen? But at the last it seemed good to
him to call certain of the chiefs, as Mnestheus, and Sergestus,
and Antheus, and bid them make ready the ships
in silence, and gather together the people, but dissemble
the cause, and he himself would watch a fitting time to
speak and unfold the matter to the Queen.
Yet was not Dido deceived, for love is keen of sight.
Rumor also told her that they made ready the ships for
sailing. Then, flying through the city, even as one on
whom has come the frenzy of Bacchus flies by night over
Mount Cithæron, she came upon Æneas, and spake:
“Thoughtest thou to hide thy crime, and to depart in
silence from this land? Carest thou not for her whom
thou leavest to die? And hast thou no fear of winter
storms that vex the sea? By all that I have done for thee
and given thee, if there be yet any place for repentance,
repent thee of this purpose. For thy sake I suffer the
wrath of the princes of Libya and of my own people; and if
thou leavest me, for what should I live?—till my brother
overthrow my city, or Iarbas carry me away captive? If
I had but a little Æneas to play in my halls I should not
seem so altogether desolate.”
But Æneas, fearing the words of Jupiter, stood with
eyes that relented not. At the last he spake: “I deny
not, O Queen, the benefits that thou hast done unto me,
nor ever, while I live, shall I forget Dido. I sought not
to fly by stealth; yet did I never promise that I would
abide in this place. Could I have chosen according to my
will, I had built again the city of Troy where it stood; but
the gods command that I should seek Italy. Thou hast
thy Carthage: why dost thou grudge Italy to us? Nor
may I tarry. Night after night have I seen my father
Anchises warning me in dreams. Also even now the
messenger of Jupiter came to me—with these ears I heard
him—and bade me depart.”
Then, in great wrath, with eyes askance, did Dido break
forth upon him: “Surely no goddess was thy mother,
nor art thou come of the race of Dardanus. The rocks of
Caucasus brought thee forth, and an Hyrcanian tigress
gave thee suck. For why should I dissemble? Was he
moved at all my tears? Did he pity my love? Nay, the
very gods are against me. This man I took to myself
when he was shipwrecked and ready to perish. I brought
back his ships, his companions from destruction. And
now forsooth comes the messenger of Jupiter with dreadful
commands from the gods. As for thee, I keep thee
not. Go, seek thy Italy across the seas: only, if there is
any vengeance in heaven, thou wilt pay the penalty for
this wrong, being wrecked on some rock in their midst.
Then wilt thou call on Dido in vain. Aye, and wherever
thou shalt go I will haunt thee, and rejoice in the dwellings
below to hear thy doom.”
Then she turned, and hasted to go into the house. But
her spirit left her, so that her maidens bear her to her
chamber and laid her on her bed.
Then Æneas, though he was much troubled in his heart,
and would fain have comforted the Queen, was obedient
to the heavenly word, and departed to his ships. And the
men of Troy busied themselves in making them ready for
the voyage. Even as the ants spoil a great heap of corn
and store it in their dwellings against winter, moving in a
black line across the field, and some carry the great grains,
and some chide those that linger, even so did the Trojans
swarm along the ways and labor at the work.
But when Dido saw it, she called to Anna, her sister,
and said, “Seest thou how they hasten the work along the
shore? Even now the sails are ready for the winds, and
the sailors have wreathed the ships with garlands, as if for
departure. Go thou—the deceiver always trusted thee,
and thou knowest how best to move him—go and entreat
him. I harmed not him nor his people; let him then
grant me this only. Let him wait for a fairer time for
his journey. I ask not that he give up his purpose; only
that he grant me a short breathing space, till I may learn
how to bear this sorrow.”
And Anna hearkened to her sister, and took the message
to Æneas, yet profited nothing, for the gods shut his ears
that he should not hear. Even as an oak stands firm when
the north wind would root it up from the earth—its leaves
are scattered all around, yet doth it remain firm, for its
roots go down to the regions below, even as far as its
branches reach to heaven—so stood Æneas firm, and,
though he wept many tears, changed not his purpose.
Then did Dido grow weary of her life. For when she did
sacrifice, the pure water would grow black and the wine be
changed into blood. Also from the shrine of her husband,
which was in the midst of her palace, was heard a voice
calling her, and the owl cried aloud from the house-top.
And in her dreams the cruel Æneas seemed to drive her
before him; or she seemed to be going a long way with
none to bear her company, and be seeking her own people
in a land that was desert. Therefore, hiding the thing that
was in her heart, she spake to her sister, saying, “I have
found a way, my sister, that shall bring him back to me or
set me free from him. Near the shore of the Great Sea,
where the Æthiopians dwell, is a priestess, who guards the
temple of the daughters of Hesperus, being wont to feed
the dragons that kept the apples of gold. She is able by
her charms to loose the heart from care or to bind it,
and to stay rivers also, and to turn the courses of the stars,
and to call up the spirits of the dead. Do thou, therefore—for
this is what the priestess commands—build a pile
in the open court, and put thereon the sword which he left
hanging in our chamber, and the garments he wore, and
the couch on which he lay, even all that was his, so that
they may perish together.”
And when these things were done—for Anna knew not
of her purpose—and also an image of Æneas was laid upon
the pile, the priestess, with her hair unbound, called upon
all the gods that dwell below, sprinkling thereon water
that was drawn, she said, from the lake of Avernus, and
scattering evil herbs that had been cut at the full moon
with a sickle of bronze. Dido also, with one foot bare and
her garments loosened, threw meal upon the fire, and called
upon the gods, if haply there be any, that look upon those
that love and suffer wrong.
In the meantime Æneas lay asleep in the hind part of
his ship, when there appeared to him in a dream the god
Mercury, even as he had seen him when he brought the
commandment of Jupiter. And Mercury spake, saying,
“Son of Venus, canst thou sleep? seest thou not what
perils surround thee, nor hearest how the favorable west
wind calls? The Queen purposes evil against thee. If
thou lingerest till the morning come thou wilt see the
shore covered with them that wish thee harm. Fly, then,
and tarry not; for a woman is ever of many minds.”
Then did Æneas in great fear start from his sleep, and
call his companions, saying, “Wake, and sit on the
benches, and loose the sails. ’Tis a god thus bids us fly.”
And even as he spake he cut the cable with his sword.
And all hasted to follow him, and sped over the sea.
And now it was morning, and Queen Dido, from her
watch-tower, saw the ships upon the sea. Then she smote
upon her breast and tore her hair, and cried, “Shall this
stranger mock us thus? Hasten to follow him. Bring
down the ships from the docks, make ready sword and fire.
And this was the man who bare upon his shoulders his
aged father! Why did I not tear him to pieces, and slay
his companions with the sword, and serve up the young
Ascanius at his meal? And if I had perished, what then?
for I die to-day. O Sun, that regardest all the earth, and
Juno, that carest for marriage bonds, and Hecate, Queen
of the dead, and ye Furies that take vengeance on evil-doers,
hear me. If it be ordered that he reach this land,
yet grant that he suffer many things from his enemies, and
be driven from his city, and beg for help from strangers,
and see his people cruelly slain with the sword; and, when
he shall have made peace on ill conditions, that he enjoy
not long his kingdom, but die before his day, and lie unburied
on the plain. And ye, men of Tyre, hate his children
and his people for ever. Let there be no love or
peace between you. And may some avenger arise from
my grave who shall persecute the race of Dardanus with
fire and sword. So shall there be war for ever between
him and me.”
Then she spake to old Barcé, who had been nurse to
her husband Sichæus. “Bid my sister bathe herself in
water, and bring with her beasts for sacrifice. And do
thou also put a garland about thy head, for I am minded
to finish this sacrifice which I have begun, and to burn
the image of the man of Troy.”
And when the old woman made haste to do her bidding,
Queen Dido ran to the court where the pile was made for
the burning, and mounted on the pile, and drew the sword
of Æneas from the scabbard. Then did she throw herself
upon the bed, and cry, “Now do I yield up my life. I
have finished my course. I have built a mighty city. I
have avenged my husband on him that slew him. Happy
had I been, yea too happy! had the ships of Troy never
come to this land.” Then she kissed the bed and cried,
“Shall I die unavenged? Nevertheless let me die. The
man of Troy shall see this fire from the sea whereon he
journeys, and carry with him an augury of death.”
And when her maidens looked, lo! she had fallen upon
the sword, and the blood was upon her hands. And a great
cry went up through the palace, exceeding loud and bitter,
even as if the enemy had taken Carthage or ancient Tyre,
and the fire were mounting over the dwellings of men and
of gods. And Anna her sister heard it, and rushing
through the midst called her by her name, “O my sister,
was this thy purpose? Were the pile and the sword and the
fire for this? Why wouldst thou not suffer that I should
die with thee? For surely, my sister, thou hast slain thyself,
and me, and thy people, and thy city. But give me
water, ye maidens, that I may wash her wounds, and if
there be any breath left in her, we may yet stay it.”
Then she climbed on to the pile, and caught her sister
in her arms, and sought to staunch the blood with her
garments. Three times did Dido strive to raise her eyes;
three times did her spirit leave her. Three times she
would have raised herself upon her elbow; three times she
fell back upon the bed, looking with wandering eyes for
the light, and groaning that she yet beheld it.
Then Juno, looking down from heaven, saw that her
pain was long, and pitied her, and sent down Iris, her messenger,
that she might loose the soul that struggled to be
free. For, seeing that she died not by nature, nor yet by
the hand of man, but before her time and of her own madness,
Queen Proserpine had not shred the ringlet from her
head which she shreds from them that die. Wherefore
Iris, flying down with dewy wings from heaven, with a
thousand colors about her from the light of the sun, stood
above her head and said, “I will give thee to death, even
as I am bidden, and loose thee from thy body.” Then she
shred the lock, and Queen Dido gave up the ghost.
From Carthage Æneas journeyed to Sicily, for the wind
hindered him from coming to Italy as he would fain have
done. And in Sicily he held great games in honor of his
father Anchises. And when these were finished he
departed to Italy, leaving behind him all that were weak
and faint-hearted.
The place whereunto he came was nigh unto Cumæ,
which was the dwelling-place of the Sibyl. And the men
turned the forepart of the ships to the sea, and made them
fast with anchors. Then they leapt forth upon the shore,
and kindled a fire; and some cut wood in the forest, or
fetched water from the stream. But Æneas went up to
the great cave of the Sibyl, where, by the inspiration of
Apollo, she foretelleth things to come.
Now the temple was a marvellous place to look upon.
For Dædalus, when he fled from Minos, King of Crete,
flying through the air upon wings, came northwards to
the land of Cumæ, and tarried there. Also he dedicated
his wings in the temple. On the doors thereof was set
forth, graven in stone, the death of Androgeos, and the
men of Attica choosing by lot seven of their children who
should be given as a ransom yearly; and, rising from the
sea upon the other side, the land of Crete. Likewise the
Labyrinth was there and its winding ways; but Icarus
they saw not, for when his father would have wrought the
manner of his death in gold his hands failed him: twice
he strove and twice they failed. And when Æneas would
have looked further, the priestess said, “Linger not with
these things, but slay forthwith seven bullocks from the
herd, and seven sheep duly chosen out of the flock.” And
when they came to the cave—now there are a hundred
doors, and a voice cometh forth from each—the Sibyl
cried, “It is time. Lo! the god, the god!” And even
as she spake her look was changed and the color of her
face; also her hair was loosened, and her breast panted,
and she waxed greater than is the stature of a man. Then
she cried, “Delayest thou to pray, Æneas of Troy? delayest
thou? for the doors open not but to prayer.” Nor
said she more. Then Æneas prayed, saying, “O Phœbus,
who didst always pity the sorrows of Troy, and didst
guide the arrow of Paris that it slew the great Achilles, I
have followed thy bidding, journeying over many lands,
and now I lay hold on this shore of Italy, which ever
seemed to fly before me. Grant thou that our ill fortune
follow us no more. And all ye gods and goddesses who
loved not Troy, be merciful to us. And thou, O Prophetess,
give, if it may be, such answer as I would hear. So
will I and my people honor thee for ever. And write it
not, I pray thee, upon leaves, lest the winds carry them
away, but speak with thy voice.”
And for awhile the prophetess strove against the spirit;
but at the last it mastered her, and the doors flew open,
and she spake, saying, “The perils of the sea thou hast
escaped, but there await thee yet worse perils upon the
land. The men of Troy shall come to the kingdom of
Lavinium. Fear not for that; yet will they fain not have
come. I see battles, and the Tiber foaming with blood,
and a new Xanthus and Simoïs, and another Achilles,
himself also goddess-born. Juno also shall be ever against
thee. And thou shalt be a suppliant to many cities.
And the cause of all these woes shall be again a woman.
Only yield not thou, but go ever more boldly when occasion
shall serve. Little thinkest thou that thy first succor
shall be from a city of the Greeks.”
And when she had ended these words, Æneas made
answer: “O Lady, no toil or peril shall take me unawares;
for I have thought over all things in my heart. But one
thing I ask of thee. Here is the door of the dwellings of
the dead. Fain would I pass thereby, that I may visit my
father. I carried him on my shoulders out of the fires of
Troy, and with me he endured many things by land and
sea, more than befitted his old age. Likewise he bade me
ask this boon of thee. Do thou therefore pity both father
and son, for thou hast the power, if only thou wilt. Did
not Orpheus bring back his wife from the dead, having his
harp only? Also Pollux goeth many times this same path,
redeeming his brother from death. And why should I tell
of Theseus and Hercules? And I also am of the lineage
of Jupiter.”
Then the Sibyl spake, saying, “Son of Anchises, it is
easy to go down to hell. The door is open day and night.
But to return, and struggle to the upper air, that is the
labor. Few only have done it, and these of the lineage of
the gods and dear to Jupiter. Yet if thou wilt attempt it,
hearken unto me. There lieth hid in the forest a bough of
gold which is sacred to the Queen of hell. Nor may any
man go on this journey till he have plucked it, for the
Queen will have it as a gift for herself. And when the
bough is plucked, there ever groweth another; and if it
be the pleasure of the gods that thou go, it will yield to thy
hand. But know that one of thy companions lieth dead
upon the shore. First must thou bury him, and after offer
due sacrifice, even black sheep. So shalt thou approach
the dwellings of the dead.”
Then Æneas departed from the cave, and Achates went
with him, and much they wondered who it might be that
was dead. And when they came to the shore, lo! Misenus
lay there, than whom no man was more skilful to call men
to battle with the voice of the trumpet. Hector’s companion
he had been in old time, and then followed Æneas.
And now, blowing his trumpet on the shore, he had challenged
the gods of the sea to compare with him; wherefore
a Triton caught him and plunged him into the sea, so that
he died. Then did Æneas and his companions prepare for
the burial, cutting ilex and oak and mountain-ash from the
wood. But when Æneas beheld the forest, how vast it
was, he said, “Now may the gods grant that in this great
forest the bough of gold discover itself.” And as he spake,
lo! two doves flew before his face, and settled on the grass,
and he knew them to be the birds of his mother, and cried,
saying, “Guide me now to the bough of gold, and thou, my
mother, help me as before.” Then the birds flew so that
he could still see them with his eyes, and he followed after
them. But when they came to the mouth of Avernus,
they sat both of them on a tree. And lo! the bough of
gold glittered among the branches and rustled in the wind.
Right gladly did Æneas break it off, and carry it to the
dwelling of the Sibyl.
In the meantime the men of Troy made a great burial for
Misenus on the shore, building a pile of wood, and washing
and anointing the body. Also they laid the body on a bier,
and on it the garments which he had worn being yet alive.
Then others, with faces turned away, held a torch to the
wood, whereon also were burned incense and offerings
of oil. And when the burning was ended they quenched
the ashes with wine. And Corynæus gathered the bones
into an urn of bronze, and purified the people, sprinkling
them with water with a bough of an olive-tree. Then
Æneas made a great mound, and put thereon the trumpet
of the man and his bow; and the mountain is called
Misenus, after him, to this day.
But when the burial was ended he did as the Sibyl had
commanded. A great cavern there is, from which cometh
so evil a stench that no bird may fly across. There they
brought four black oxen, and the priestess poured wine
upon their heads and cut hairs from between the horns.
And when they had burned these they slew the oxen, holding
dishes for the blood. And Æneas offered a black lamb
to the Furies and a barren heifer to the Queen of hell,
smiting them with his sword. Then they burned the entrails
with fire, pouring oil upon them. Then did the
ground give a hollow sound beneath them, and the dogs
howled, for the goddess was at hand. And the priestess
cried, “Go ye who may not take part in this matter. And
thou, Æneas, draw thy sword from its sheath and follow.
Now hast thou need of all thy strength and courage.”
Then she plunged into the cave, and Æneas went with her.
So they went together through the land of shadows, like
unto men who walk through a wood in a doubtful light,
when the moon indeed hath risen, but there are clouds
over the sky. And first they came to where, in front of
the gates of hell, dwell Sorrow and Remorse, and pale
Disease and Fear, and Hunger that tempteth men to sin,
and Want, and Death, and Toil, and Slumber, that is
Death’s kinsman, and deadly War; also they saw the
chamber of the Furies, and Discord, whose hair is of
snakes that drip with blood. And in this region there is
an ancient elm, in the boughs whereof dwell all manner
of dreams, and shapes of evil monsters, as many as have
been, such as were the Centaurs, half man half horse, and
Briareus with the hundred hands, and others also. These
Æneas, when he saw them, sought to slay, rushing upon
them with the sword, but his guide warned him that they
were shadows only.
After this they came to the river of hell, whereon plies
the Boatman Charon. A long white beard hath he and
unkempt; and his eyes are fixed in a fiery stare, and a
scarf is knotted upon his shoulder, as is a pilot’s wont.
An old man he seemeth to be, but hale and ruddy. Now
there was ever rushing to the bank a great crowd, wives
and mothers, and valiant men of war, boys, and girls dead
before they were given in marriage, and young men laid
on the funeral pile before their parents’ eyes. Thick they
were as the leaves that fall to the earth at the first frost
of autumn, or as the swallows, when they gather themselves
together, making ready to fly across the sea to the
lands of the sun. And of these Charon would take some
into his boat; but others he would forbid, and drive from
the shore. This when Æneas saw, he marvelled, and said,
“O Lady, what meaneth this concourse at the river?
What seek these souls? Why be some driven from the
bank and some ferried across?”
And the Sibyl made answer: “This river that thou
seest is the Styx, by which the gods in heaven swear, and
fear to break their oath. Those whom thou seest to be
driven from the bank are such as have lacked burial, but
those who are ferried across have been buried duly; for
none pass this stream till their bodies have been laid in
the grave, otherwise they wander for a hundred years, and
so at last may cross over.”
Much did Æneas pity their ill fortune, and the more
when he beheld Orontes and his Lycians, whom the sea
had swallowed up alive before his eyes. Here likewise
there met him his pilot Palinurus, to whom, when he knew
him, for indeed he scarce could see him in the darkness,
he said, “What god took thee from us and drowned thee
in the sea? Surely, in this one matter, Apollo hath deceived
me, saying that thou shouldst escape the sea and
come to the land of Italy.”
Then answered Palinurus, “Not so, great Æneas. For
indeed to the land of Italy I came. Three nights the
south wind carried me over the sea, and on the fourth day
I saw the land of Italy from the top of a wave. And when
I swam to the shore, and was now clinging to the rocks,
my garments being heavy with water, the savage people
came upon me, and took me for a prey, and slew me. And
now the winds and waves bear me about as they will.
Wherefore I pray thee, by thy father, and Iülus, the hope
of thy house, that thou deliver me from these woes. Go,
therefore, I beseech thee, to the haven of Velia, and cast
earth upon me for burial; or give me now thy hand, and
take me with thee across this river.”
Then said the priestess, “O Palinurus, what madness is
this? Wilt thou without due burial cross the river, and
look upon the awful faces of the Furies? Think not that
the Fates can be changed by prayers. Yet hear this, and
be comforted. They that slew thee, being sore troubled
by many plagues, shall make due expiation to thee, and
build a tomb, and make offerings thereon year by year;
and the place where they slew thee shall be called after
thy name.”
Then he took comfort and departed. But when they
came near to the river, the Boatman beheld them, and
cried, “Stay thou, whoever thou art, that comest armed
to this river, and tell me what thou seekest. This is the
land of Shadows, of Sleep, and of Night. The living may
not be ferried in this boat. An evil day it was when I
carried Hercules, and Theseus, and Pirithoüs, though they
were children of the gods. For Hercules chained the
Watch-dog of hell, and dragged him trembling from his
master’s seat. And Theseus and his friend sought to
carry away the Queen even from the chamber of her husband.”
Then the Sibyl made answer: “Be not troubled. We
come not hither with evil thoughts. Let the Watch-dog
of hell make the pale ghosts afraid; let your Queen abide
in her husband’s palace; we will not harm them. Æneas
of Troy cometh down to hell that he may speak with his
father. And if thou takest no account of such piety, yet
thou wilt know this token.”
And she showed him the bough of gold. And when he
saw it he laid aside his anger, rejoicing to behold, now after
many years, the marvellous gift. Then he brought near
his boat to the bank, and drave out the souls that were
therein, and took on board Æneas and the priestess.
Much did it groan with the weight, and the water poured
apace through the seams thereof. Yet did they come
safe across.
Then they saw Cerberus, the Watch-dog, in his cave.
And to him the Sibyl gave a cake of honey and poppy-seed,
causing sleep. And this he swallowed, opening
wide his three ravenous mouths, and straightway stretched
himself out asleep across the cave.
After this they heard a great wailing of infants, even
the voices of such as are taken away before they have had
lot or part in life. And near to these were such as have
died by false accusation; yet lack they not justice, for
Minos trieth their cause. And yet beyond, they that,
being guiltless, have laid hands upon themselves. Fain
would they now endure hardships, being yet alive, but
may not, for the river keeps them in with his unlovely
stream as in a prison. Not far from these are the Mourning
Fields, where dwell the souls of those that have died
of love, as Procris, whom Cephalus slew in error, and Laodamia,
who died of grief for her husband. And among
these was Dido, fresh from the wound wherewith she slew
herself. And when Æneas saw her darkly through the
shadows, even as one who sees, or thinketh that he sees,
the new moon lately risen, he wept, and said, “O Dido, it
was truth, then, that they told me, saying that thou hadst
slain thyself with the sword. Tell me, Was I the cause of
thy death? Loath was I, O Queen—I swear it by all
that is most holy in heaven or hell—to leave thy land.
But the gods, at whose bidding I come hither this day,
constrained me; nor did I think that thou wouldst take
such sorrow from my departure. But stay; depart not;
for never again may I speak to thee but this once only.”
So he spake, and would fain have appeased her wrath.
But she cast her eyes to the ground, and her heart was
hard against him, even as a rock. And she departed into
a grove that was hard by, wherein was her first husband,
Sichæus, who loved her even as he was loved. After this
they came to the land where the heroes dwell. And
there they saw Tydeus, who died before Thebes; and
Adrastus, and also many men of Troy, as the three sons
of Antenor, and Idæus who was the armor-bearer of King
Priam, and bare the arms and drave the chariot yet. All
these gathered about him, and would fain know wherefore
he had come. But when the hosts of Agamemnon saw
his shining arms through the darkness, they fled, as in old
days they had fled to the ships; and some would have
cried aloud, but could not, so thin are the voices of the
dead.
Among these he saw Deïphobus, son of Priam. Cruelly
mangled was he, for his hands had been cut off, and his
ears and his nostrils likewise. Scarce did Æneas know
him, and he himself in shame would have hidden his
wounds; but the son of Anchises spake to him, saying,
“Who hath dealt so foully with thee, great Deïphobus?
Men told me that on the last night of Troy thou didst fall
dead on a heap of Greeks whom thou hadst slain. Wherefore
I built thee a tomb by the sea, and thrice called aloud
thy name. But thee I found not, that I might lay thee
therein.”
Then Deïphobus made answer: “Thou hast left nothing
undone, but hast paid me all due honor. But my ill
fate and the accursed wickedness of the Spartan woman
have destroyed me. How we spent that last night in idle
rejoicings thou knowest. And she, while the women of
Troy danced before the gods, stood holding a torch on the
citadel, as though she were their leader, yet in truth she
called therewith the Greeks from Tenedos. But I lay
overcome with weariness in my chamber. Then did she,
a noble wife, forsooth! take all the arms out of the house,
and my trusty sword also from under my head; and after
brought thereunto Menelaüs, so hoping to do away her sin
against him; and Ulysses also, always ready with evil
counsels. What need of more? May the gods do so and
more also to them. But tell me why hast thou come
hither?”
And it was now past noonday, and the two had spent
in talk all the allotted time. Therefore the Sibyl spake:
“Night cometh, Æneas, and we waste the day in tears.
Lo! here are two roads. This on the right hand leadeth
to the palace of Pluto and to the Elysian plains; and that
on the left to Tartarus, the abode of the wicked.” And
Deïphobus answered: “Be not wroth, great priestess; I
depart to my own place. Do thou, my friend, go on and
prosper.”
But as Æneas looked round he saw a great building,
and a three-fold wall about it, and round the wall a river
of fire. Great gates there were, and a tower of brass, and
the fury Tisiphone sat as warder. Also he heard the
sound of those that smote upon an anvil, and the clanking
of chains. And he stood, and said, “What mean these
things that I see and hear?” Then the Sibyl made
answer: “The foot of the righteous may not pass that
threshold. But when the Queen of hell gave me this
office she herself led me through the place and told me
all. There sitteth Rhadamanthus the Cretan, and judgeth
the dead. And them that be condemned Tisiphone taketh,
and the gate which thou seest openeth to receive
them. And within is a great pit, and the depth thereof is
as the height of heaven. Herein lie the Titans, the sons
of Earth, whom Jupiter smote with the thunder; and
herein the sons of Aloeus, who strove to thrust the gods
from heaven; and Salmoneus, who would have mocked
the thunder of Jupiter, riding in his chariot through the
cities of Elis, and shaking a torch, and giving himself out
to be a god. But the lightning smote him in his pride.
Also I saw Tityos, spread over nine acres of ground, and
the vulture feeding on his heart. And over some hangs a
great stone ready to fall; and some sit at the banquet, but
when they would eat, the Fury at their side forbids, and
rises and shakes her torch and thunders in their ears.
These are they who while they were yet alive hated their
brothers, or struck father or mother, or deceived one that
trusted to them, or kept their riches for themselves, nor
cared for those of their own household (a great multitude
are they), or stirred up civil strife. And of these some
roll a great stone and cease not, and some are bound to
wheels, and some sit forever crying, ‘Learn to do righteousness
and to fear the gods.’”
And when the priestess had finished these words they
hastened on their way. And, after a while, she said,
“Lo! here is the palace which the Cyclopés built for
Pluto and the Queen of hell. Here must we offer the gift
of the bough of gold.” And this being accomplished,
they came to the dwellings of the righteous. Here are
green spaces, with woods about them; and the light of
their heaven is fuller and brighter than that which men
behold. Another sun they have and other stars. Some
of them contend together in wrestling and running; and
some dance in measure, singing the while a pleasant song;
and Orpheus, clad in a long robe, makes music, touching
his harp, now with his fingers and now with an ivory bow.
Here did Æneas marvel to see the mighty men of old,
such as were Ilus, and Dardanus, builder of Troy. Their
spears stood fixed in the earth, and their horses fed about
the plain; for they love spear and chariot and horses,
even as they loved them upon earth. And others sat and
feasted, sitting on the grass in a sweet-smelling grove of
bay, whence flows the river which men upon the earth
call the Po. Here were they who had died for their
country, and holy priests, and poets who had uttered nothing
base, and such as had found out witty inventions, or
had done great good to men. All these had snow-white
garlands on their heads. Then spake the Sibyl to Musæus,
who stood in the midst, surpassing them all in
stature: “Tell me, happy souls, where shall we find
Anchises.” And Musæus answered, “We have no certain
dwelling-place: but climb this hill, and ye can see the
whole plain below, and doubtless him whom ye seek.”
Then they beheld Anchises where he sat in a green valley,
regarding the spirits of those who should be born in
after-time of his race. And when he beheld Æneas coming,
he stretched out his hands and cried, “Comest thou, my
son? Hast thou won thy way hither to me? Even so I
thought that it would be, and lo! my hope hath not failed
me.”
And Æneas made answer, “Yea, I have come a long
way to see thee, even as thy spirit bade me. And now
let me embrace thee with my arms.”
But when he would have embraced him it was as if he
clasped the air.
Then Æneas looked and beheld a river, and a great
company of souls thereby, thick as the bees on a calm
summer day in a garden of lilies. And when he would
know the meaning of the concourse, Anchises said,
“These are souls which have yet to live again in a mortal
body, and they are constrained to drink of the water of
forgetfulness.” And Æneas said, “Nay, my father, can
any desire to take again upon them the body of death?”
Then Anchises made reply: “Listen, my son, and I will
tell thee all. There is one soul in heaven and earth and
the stars and the shining orb of the moon and the great
sun himself; from which soul also cometh the life of man
and of beast, and of the birds of the air, and of the fishes
of the sea. And this soul is of a divine nature, but the
mortal body maketh it slow and dull. Hence come fear
and desire, and grief and joy, so that, being as it were shut
in a prison, the spirit beholdeth not any more the light
that is without. And when the mortal life is ended, yet
are not men quit of all the evils of the body, seeing
these must needs be put away in many marvellous
ways. For some are hung up to the winds, and with some
their wickedness is washed out by water, or burnt out
with fire. But a ghostly pain we all endure. Then we
that are found worthy are sent unto Elysium and the
plains of the blest. And when, after many days, the soul
is wholly pure, it is called to the river of forgetfulness,
that it may drink thereof, and so return to the world that
is above.”
Then he led Æneas and the Sibyl to a hill whence they
could see the whole company, and regard their faces as
they came; and he said, “Come, and I will show thee
them that shall come after thee. That youth who leans
upon a pointless spear is Silvius, thy youngest child, whom
Lavinia shall bear to thee in thy old age. He shall reign
in Alba, and shall be the father of kings. And many
other kings are there who shall build cities great and
famous. Lo! there is Romulus, whom Ilia shall bear to
Mars. He shall build Rome, whose empire shall reach to
the ends of the earth and its glory to the heaven. Seest
thou him with the olive crown about his head and the
white beard? That is he who shall first give laws to
Rome. And next to him is Tullus, the warrior. And
there are the Tarquins; and Brutus, who shall set the
people free, aye, and shall slay his own sons when they
would be false to their country. See also the Decii; and
Torquatus, with the cruel axe; and Camillus winning back
the standards of Rome. There standeth one who shall
subdue Corinth; and there another who shall avenge the
blood of Troy upon the race of Achilles. There, too, thou
mayest see the Scipios, thunderbolts of war, whom the
land of Africa shall fear; and there Regulus, busy in the
furrows; and there the Fabii, chiefly him, greatest of the
name, who shall save thy country by wise delay. Such,
my son, shall be thy children’s children. Others with
softer touch shall carve the face of man in marble or mould
the bronze; some more skilfully shall plead, or map the
skies, or tell the rising of the stars. ’Tis thine, man
of Rome, to subdue the world. This is thy work, to set
the rule of peace over the vanquished, to spare the humble,
and to subdue the proud.”
Then he spake again: “Regard him who is the first of
all the company of conquerors. He is Marcellus; he shall
save the state in the day of trouble, and put to flight
Carthaginian and Gaul.”
Then said Æneas, for he chanced to see by his side a
youth clad in shining armor, and very fair to look upon,
but sad, and with downcast eyes, “Tell me, father, who is
this? How noble is he! What a company is about him!
but there is a shadow of darkness round his head.”
And Anchises made answer, “O my son, seek not to
know the greatest sorrow that shall befall thy children
after thee. This youth the Fates shall only show for a
brief space to man. Rome would seem too mighty to the
gods should he but live! What mourning shall there be
for him! What a funeral shalt thou see, O river of Tiber,
as thou flowest by the new-made tomb! No youth of the
race of Troy shall promise so much as he. Alas! for his
righteousness, and truth, and valor unsurpassed! O luckless
boy, if thou canst haply break thy evil doom thou
shalt be a Marcellus. Give handfuls of lilies. I will
scatter the bright flowers and pay the idle honors to my
grandson’s shade.”
Thus did Anchises show his son things to be, and kindled
his soul with desire of glory. Also he showed him what
wars he must wage, and how he should endure, or, if it
might be, avoid the evils to come.
There are two gates of Sleep, of horn the one, by which
true dreams go forth; of ivory the other, by which the
false. Then did Anchises send forth his son and the
Sibyl by the ivory gate. And Æneas returned to the
ships, and making sail came to the cape which was afterwards
called Caieta.
While they tarried at Cumæ, Caieta, who was the nurse
of Æneas, died and was buried; and they called the cape
after her name. And afterwards they set sail, and passed
by the island wherein dwelt Circé, who is the daughter of
the Sun. Pleasantly doth she sing, sitting at the loom,
and burneth torches of sweet-smelling cedar to give her
light by night. And round about her dwelling you may
hear the growling of lions and wild boars and bears and
wolves, which are men whom the goddess with her enchantments
hath changed into the shapes of beasts. But
Neptune would not that the men of Troy, being fearers of
the gods, should suffer such things. Therefore did he send
them favorable winds, so that they passed quickly by that
land.
Now when it was dawn, the wind being now lulled, they
came to a great wood upon the shore, and in the midst of
the wood the river Tiber, yellow with much abundance of
sand, flowing into the sea. And on the shore and in the
wood were many birds. Thither the men of Troy brought
their ships safe to land.
Of this country Latinus was king, who was the son of
Faunus, who was the son of Picus, who was the son
of Saturn. And King Latinus had not a son, but a
daughter only, Lavinia by name, who was now of an
age to be married. Many chiefs of Latium, and of all
Italy, desired to have her to wife; of whom the first
was Turnus, a very comely youth, and of a royal house.
Now the Queen, the mother of the virgin, loved him, and
would fain have married her daughter to him, but the gods
hindered the marriage with ill omens and marvels. In the
midst of the palace was a great bay-tree, which the King
who had builded the house had dedicated to Phœbus. On
this there lighted a great swarm of bees, and hung like
unto a cluster of grapes from a bough thereof. And the
seers, beholding the thing, cried, “There cometh a stranger
who shall be husband to Lavinia, and a strange people who
shall bear rule in this place.” Also when Lavinia lighted
the fire upon the altar, standing by her father, a flame leapt
therefrom upon her hair, and burned the ornament that
was upon her head and the crown of jewels and gold, and
spread with smoke and fire over the whole palace. Whereupon
the prophets spake, saying, “The virgin indeed shall
be famous and great, but there cometh a dreadful war upon
her people.” And King Latinus, fearing what these things
might mean, inquired of the oracle of Faunus, his father,
which is by the grove of Albunea. Now the custom is
that the priest offereth sacrifice in the grove and lieth down
to sleep on the skins of the sheep that he hath slain; and
it cometh to pass that he seeth visions in the night and
heareth the voice of the gods. So King Latinus, being
himself a priest, made a great sacrifice, even of a hundred
sheep, and lay down to sleep upon the skins thereof. And
when he was laid down, straightway there came a voice
from the grove, saying, “Seek not, my son, to marry thy
daughter to a chief of this land. There shall come a son-in-law
from beyond the sea, who shall exalt our name from
the one end of heaven to the other.” Nor did the King
hide these things, but noised them abroad, and the fame
thereof was great in these days when Æneas and his company
came to the land of Italy.
Now it so chanced that Æneas and Iülus his son, and
others of the princes, sat down to eat under a tree; and
they had platters of dough whereupon to eat their meat.
And when they had ended, and were not satisfied, they ate
their platters also, not thinking what they did. Then said
Iülus, making sport, “What! do we eat even our tables?”
And Æneas was right glad to hear this thing, and embraced
the boy, and said, “Now know I that we are come
to the land which the gods have promised to me and to my
people, that they would give us. For my father, Anchises,
spake to me, saying, ‘My son, when thou shalt come to a
land that thou knowest not, and hunger shall constrain
thee to eat thy tables, then know that thou hast found thee
a home.’ Now, therefore, seeing that these things have
an accomplishment, let us pour out libations to Jupiter,
and make our prayers also to my father, Anchises, and
make merry. And in the morning we will search out the
country, and see who they be that dwell herein.”
Then he bound a garland of leaves about his head, and
made his prayers to Mother Earth, and to the gods of the
land, of whom indeed he knew not who they were, and to
Father Jupiter, and to the other gods also. And when he
had ended his prayer, Jupiter thundered thrice from the
sky. Then was it noised abroad among the men of Troy
that now indeed were they come to the land where they
should build them a city; and they eat and drank and made
merry.
The next day those who should search out the country
went forth. And when it was told Æneas, saying that this
river was the Tiber, and that the people who dwelt in the
land were the Latins, valiant men of war, he chose out a
hundred men who should go, with crowns of olive upon
their heads, to the city of the King, having also gifts in
their hands, and should pray that there might be peace
between the men of Troy and his people. And the men
made haste to depart; and in the meanwhile Æneas marked
out for himself a camp, and bade that they should make a
rampart and a ditch.
Now when they that were sent came nigh to the city,
they saw the young men in the plain that was before it,
riding upon horses and driving chariots. Others shot with
the bow or cast javelins, and some contended in running
or boxing. And one rode on horseback and told the king,
saying that certain men in strange raiment were come.
Then the King commanded that they should be brought
into the palace, and sat upon the throne of his fathers, and
gave audience to them.
Now the palace stood on the hill that was in the midst
of the city, where King Picus had builded it, having woods
about it very sacred. Here did the kings first receive the
sceptre, that they should bear rule over the people. A
senate-house also it was, and a banqueting-house, where
the princes sat feasting. Very great was it and magnificent,
having a hundred pillars; and in the halls were the
statues of ancient kings, carven in cedar, even Italus, and
Sabinus the vine-dresser, and Father Saturn, and Janus
with the two faces. Also on the wall hung trophies of
war, chariots, and battle-axes, and helmets, and the beaks
of ships. And sitting on the throne was the image of
King Picus, clad in royal apparel, and bearing a shield on
his left arm. But the King himself his wife Circé had
changed into a bird.
And King Latinus spake, saying, “Tell me, men of
Troy, for I know you who you are, what seek ye? For
what cause are ye come to the land of Italy? Have ye
gone astray in your journey? or have the storms driven
you out of the way, as ofttimes befalleth men that sail
upon the sea? Ye are welcome. And know that we be
of the race of Saturn, who do righteously, not by constraint,
but of our own will. From hence also, even from
Corythus, which is a city of the Etrurians, went forth
Dardanus, and abode in the land of Troy.”
Then Ilioneüs made answer, saying, “Great King, we
have not gone astray in our journey, nor have storms
driven us out of our way. Of set purpose are we come to
this land. For we were driven away by ill-fortune from
our country, of which things we doubt not, O King, that
thou knowest the certainty. For who is there under the
whole heaven who knoweth not what a storm of destruction
came forth from the land of Greece and overthrew the
great city of Troy, Europe and Asia setting themselves in
arms against each other? And now are we come to ask
for a parcel of land whereon we may dwell; and for air
and water, which indeed are common to all men. Nor
shall we do dishonor to this realm, nor be unthankful for
these benefits. And be sure, O King, that it will not repent
thee that thou hast received us. For indeed many
nations and lands would fain have joined us to themselves.
But the gods laid a command upon us that we should come
to this country of Italy. For indeed, as thou sayest, Dardanus
came forth from hence, and thither his children,
Apollo bidding them, would return. And now, behold,
Æneas sends thee these gifts of the things which remain
to us of the riches which we had aforetime. This sceptre
King Priam held when he did justice among his people;
here is a crown also, and garments which the women of
Troy have worked with their hands.”
Then for awhile King Latinus kept silence, fixing his
eyes upon the ground. Deeply did he ponder in his heart
upon the marriage of his daughter, and upon the oracles
of Faunus his father, whether indeed this stranger that
was now come to his land might haply be the son-in-law
of whom the prophets had spoken. At the last he spake,
saying, “May the gods prosper this matter between you
and me. We grant, men of Troy, that which ye ask.
Also we regard these your gifts. Know ye that while we
reign in this land ye shall not want for riches, even unto
the measure of the riches of Troy. And for your King,
Æneas, if he desire, as ye say, to join himself with us, let
him come and look upon us, face to face. And also take
ye back this message to your King. I have a daughter,
whom the gods suffer me not to marry to a husband of
this land. For they say that there shall come a stranger
who shall be my son-in-law, and that from his loins shall
come forth those who shall raise our name even unto the
stars.”
Then the King commanded that they should bring forth
horses from the stalls. Now there stood in the stalls
three hundred horses, very fleet of foot. And of these
they brought forth one hundred, one for each man of
Troy; and they were decked with trappings of purple,
and champed on bits of gold. And for Æneas himself he
sent a chariot, and two horses breathing fire from their
nostrils, which were of the breed of the horses of the Sun.
So the men of Troy went back riding on horses, and took
to Æneas the gifts and the message of peace.
Now Juno beheld how the men of Troy were come to
the land of Italy, and were now building them houses to
dwell in; and great wrath came into her heart, and she
spake to herself, saying, “Of a truth this accursed race
hath vanquished me. For the flames of Troy burned them
not, neither hath the sea devoured them. And, lo! they
are come to the place where they would be, even to the
river of Tiber. Yet could Mars destroy the whole nation
of the Lapithæ, when he was wroth with them;
and Jupiter suffered Diana to prevail against the land of
Calydon. Yet had not the Lapithæ or Calydon done
so great wickedness as hath this nation of Troy. And I,
who am the wife of Jupiter, am vanquished by Æneas!
Yet have I means yet remaining to me, for if the gods of
heaven will not help me, then will I betake me to the
powers of hell. From the kingdom of Latium I may not
keep him, and the gods decree that he shall have Lavinia
to wife. Yet may I hinder the matter. Surely at a great
price shall they buy this alliance; and thy dowry, O virgin,
shall be the blood of Italy and of Troy.”
Then Juno descended to the lower parts of the earth,
and called to her Alecto from the dwellings of her sisters
the Furies—Alecto who loveth war and anger and treachery,
and all evil deeds. Even Pluto hateth her, aye, and
her sisters likewise, so dreadful is she to behold. And
Juno spake to her, saying, “Now would I have thee help
me, Daughter of Night, that I lose not my proper honor.
I will not that Æneas should have the daughter of Latinus
to wife, or dwell in the land of Italy. Seeing therefore
that thou canst set brother against brother, and bring
enmity into houses and kingdoms, that they should fall,
break this peace that they have made, and bring to pass
some occasion of war.”
Then straightway Alecto betook herself to the dwelling
of King Latinus. There found she Amata, the Queen, in
great trouble and wrath, for she loved not the men of
Troy, and would have Turnus for her son-in-law. And
the Fury took a snake from her hair, and thrust it into
the bosom of the Queen. About her breast it glided
unfelt, and breathed poisonous breath into her heart.
And now it became a collar of twisted gold about her
neck, and now a crown about her head, binding her hair.
At the first indeed, when the poison began to work, and
her whole heart was not as yet filled with the fever, she
spake gently and after the wont of a mother, weeping
much the while over her daughter. “Art thou then
ready, my husband, to give thy daughter to this exile of
Troy? Hast thou no pity for thyself, or thy daughter, or
me? Well know I that with the first north wind he will
fly and carry her away over the sea. And what of thy
word, and of the faith that thou hast pledged so many
times to Turnus thy kinsman? If thou must seek a son-in-law
from the land of the stranger, I hold that they all
be strangers who obey not thy rule, and that the gods
mean not other than this. And Turnus, if thou wilt
inquire more deeply into his descent, is of the lineage of
Inachus, and cometh in the beginning from the land of
Mycenæ.”
But when she perceived that her husband heeded not
these words, and when also the poison of the serpent had
now altogether prevailed over her, she ran through the
city like to one that is mad. Nay, she feigned that the
frenzy of Bacchus was upon her, and fled into the woods,
taking her daughter with her, to the end that she might
hinder the marriage. Many other women also, when they
heard this thing, went forth, leaving their homes. With
bare necks and hair unbound they went, crying aloud the
while; and in their hands they held staves of pine, and
were clad in the skins of wild beasts. And in the midst
of them stood the Queen, holding a great pine torch in
her hand, and singing the marriage song of her daughter
and Turnus; and her eyes were red as blood.
Next after this the Fury, deeming that she had overthrown
the counsels of Latinus, sped to the city of Turnus
the Rutulian. Now the name of the city was called
Ardea, and Danaë builded it in old time; Ardea is it
called to this day, but its glory hath departed. Now Turnus
was asleep in his palace, and Alecto took upon her
the shape of an old woman, even of Chalybé, who was the
priestess of Juno; and she spake, saying, “Turnus, wilt
thou suffer all thy toil to be in vain, and thy kingdom to
be given to another? King Latinus taketh from thee thy
betrothed wife, and chooseth a stranger that he should
inherit his kingdom. Juno commanded that I should tell
thee this in thy sleep. Rise, therefore, and arm thy
people. Consume these strangers and their ships with
fire. And if King Latinus yet will not abide by his promise,
let him know for himself what Turnus can do in the
day of battle.”
But Turnus laughed her to scorn. “That the ships of
the stranger have come to the Tiber, I know full well.
But tell me not these tales. Queen Juno forgetteth me
not, therefore I am not afraid; but thou, mother, art old,
and wanderest from the truth, and troublest thyself for
nought, and art mocked with idle fear. Thy business it is
to tend the temples of the gods and their images, but as
for war, leave that to men, seeing that it is their care.”
Greatly wroth was Alecto to hear such words. And
even while he spake the young man shuddered and stared
with his eyes, for the Fury hissed before him with a
thousand snakes. And when he would have spoken more,
she thrust him back, and caught two snakes from her hair,
and lashed him therewith, and cried aloud, “Old am I!
and wander from the truth! and am mocked with idle
fears! Nay, but I come from the dwelling of the Furies,
and war and death are in my hand!”
And she cast a torch at the youth, and fixed it smoking
with baleful light in his heart. Then, in great fear, he
woke, and a cold sweat burst forth upon him, and he cried
aloud for his arms, and was exceedingly mad for battle.
Also he bade the youth arm themselves, saying that he
would thrust the men of Troy out of Italy, aye, and fight,
if need were, with the Latins also. And the people
hearkened unto him, so fair was he, and of noble birth,
and great renown in war.
Then Alecto hied her to the place where Iülus was
hunting the beasts of the forest. Now there was a stag,
very stately, with exceeding great horns, which Tyrrheus
and his children had brought up from a fawn. And Silvia,
a fair virgin who was his daughter, was wont to adorn
it with garlands, and to comb it, and to wash it with
water. By day it would wander in the woods, and at
nightfall come back to the house. This stag, then, the
dogs of Iülus having scented pursued, and indeed Alecto
brought it to pass that this mischief shall befall; and
Iülus also, following hard upon his dogs, shot an arrow at
it, nor missed (for the Fury would have it so), but pierced
it through. Then the wounded beast flew back to the
house which it knew, being covered with blood, and filled
it with a lamentable voice, as one that crieth for help.
And Silvia heard it, and cried to the country folk for aid,
who came forthwith, Alecto urging them (for the accursed
thing lay hid in the woods). And one had a charred firebrand
and another a knotted stick, each such weapon as
came to his hand. And Tyrrheus, who chanced to be
splitting a tall oak with wedges, led the way, having a
great axe in his hand.
Then did Alecto climb upon the roof, and, sounding
with hellish voice through a clarion, sent abroad the shepherds’signal. And all the forest trembled at the sound,
and Trivia’s lake and Nar, with his white sulphurous
wave, and the fountains of Velia; and trembling mothers
pressed their children to their breasts.
Then ran together all the country folk, and the youth
of Troy hasted also to the help of Iülus. And now they
fought not with clubs and charred stakes, but with swords
and spears in battle array. Then Almo fell, the eldest of
the sons of Tyrrheus, stricken in the throat, with many
others round him, and among them the old man Galæsus,
even as he offered himself to be a mediator between the
two. Most righteous of men was he, and richest likewise,
for he had five flocks of sheep and five herds of cattle, and
tilled the earth with a hundred ploughs.
But Alecto, when she had accomplished these things,
hasted to Juno, and spake, saying, “I have done thy bidding;
and now, if thou wilt, I will to the neighboring
cities, spreading among them rumors of wars.” But Juno
answered, “It is enough; there hath been the shedding of
blood. It were not well that the Father should see thee
wandering in the upper air, wherefore depart, and if aught
remain to be done, I will see to it.”
After this the shepherds hasted back to the city, and
bare with them the dead, even the youth Almo and the
old man Galæsus, and cried for vengeance to the gods and
to the King. And fiercest of all was Turnus, complaining
that men of Troy were called to reign over them, and that
he himself was banished. And all the multitude was urgent
with the King that he should make war against the
strangers; neither did any man regard the commands of
the gods. But the King stood firm, even as a great rock in
the sea is not moved though the waves roar about it and
the seaweed is dashed upon its sides. But when he saw
that he could not prevail against these evil counsels, he
called the gods to witness, crying, “The storm strikes
upon me, and I may not stand against it. O foolish Latins,
ye shall pay for this madness with your blood, and thou,
Turnus, shalt suffer the worst punishment of all; and
when thou shalt turn to the gods they shall not hear thee.
But as for me, my rest is at hand; I lose but the honors of
my funeral.”
It was a custom in Latium, which Alba kept in after
time, and mighty Rome yet keepeth to this day, that when
she beginneth to make war, be it on the men of Thrace or
the men of the East, Arab, or Indian, or Parthian, they
open the great gates of the temple (double they are,
and made strong with bolts of brass and iron), on the
threshold whereof sitteth Janus, the guardian. For the
Consul himself, with robe and girdle, so soon as the
fathers give their sentence for war, throweth them wide,
and the people follow the Consul, and the horns blow a
great blast together. Even so they bade King Latinus,
after the custom of his country, declare war against the
the men of Troy, and open the gates of slaughter; but
he would not, flying and hiding himself in darkness.
Then did great Juno herself come down and burst
asunder the iron-bound gates of war.
Then through the land of Italy men prepared themselves
for battle, making bright shield and spear, and
sharpening the axe upon the whetstone. And in five
cities did they set up anvils to make arms thereon,
head-pieces, and shields of wicker, and breast-plates of
bronze, and greaves of silver. Nor did men regard any
more the reaping-hook nor the plough, making new for
battle the swords of their fathers.
Now the greatest of the chiefs were these:—
First, Prince Mezentius, the Tuscan, who regarded
not the gods; and with him Lausus his son, than whom
was none fairer in the host but Turnus only. A thousand
men followed him from Agylla. Worthy was he of a
better father.
Next came, with horses that none might surpass, Aventinus,
son of Hercules; and on his shield was the emblem
of his father, the Hydra with its hundred snakes.
Long swords had his men and Sabine spears; and he
himself had about his head and shoulders a great lion’s
skin, with terrible mane and great white teeth.
And from Tibur came two youths of Argos, twin
brothers, Catillus and Coras, swift and strong as two
Centaurs from the hills. And Cæculus, who builded
Præneste, was there, son of Vulcan, and a great company
of country folk with him, whereof many bare not
shield nor spear, but slings with bullets of lead, and
javelins in either hand, and helmets of wolf’s skin upon
their heads.
After him marched Messapus, tamer of horses, Neptune’s
son, whom no man might lay low with fire or
sword; and the people followed, singing a war-song of
their king, like to a great flock of swans, which flies with
many cries across the Asian marsh. And next Clausus
the Sabine, from whom is sprung the great Claudian
house; and Halesus, companion of Agamemnon, and
enemy of Troy from of old, with many nations behind
him; clubs had they, fastened with thongs of leather,
and wicker shields on their left arms, and their swords
were shaped as reaping-hooks. After these came Œbalus,
son of Telon, with the men of Campania, wearing helmets
of cork, and having shields and swords of bronze; also
Ufens, of Neresæ, with his robber bands; and Umbro,
the Marsian priest, a mighty wizard and charmer of serpents,
who could also heal their bite; but the wound of
the Trojan spears he could not heal, nor did all his charms
and mighty herbs avail him.
With them also came Virbius, son of Hippolytus, from
Egeria. For men say that Hippolytus, when the curse
of his father had fallen upon him, and he had perished by
the madness of his horses, was made alive by the skill of
Æsculapius, and that Jupiter, being wroth that a mortal
should return from the dead, slew the healer, the son of
Phœbus, with his thunderbolt; but that Hippolytus Diana
hid in the grove of Africa, that he might spend the rest of
his days obscure and without offence. And therefore do
they yet hinder horses from coming near to the temple of
Diana. Nevertheless the youth Virbius drave horses in
his chariot.
But chief among them all was Turnus, who moved in the
midst, clad in armor, and overtopping them all by his
head. And he had a helmet with three crests, and the
Chimæra thereon for a sign; and on his shield was Io,
with her horns lifted to heaven, and Argus the herdsman,
and Inachus pouring a river from his urn. A great multitude
of footmen followed him, Rutulians and Sicanians,
and they that dwelt about the Tiber, and about Anxur, and
about the green woods of Feronia.
Last of all came Camilla the Volscian, with a great company
on horses, clad in armor of bronze. She loved neither
distaff nor the basket of Minerva, but rather to fight and
to outstrip the winds in running. And a mighty runner
was she, for she would run over the harvest-field nor harm
the corn, and when she sped across the waves of the sea
she wetted not her foot therein. All the youth marvelled
to behold her, and the women stood gazing upon her as she
went. For a robe of royal purple was about her shoulders,
and a snood of gold about her hair; and she carried a
Syrian quiver and a pike of myrtle-wood, as the shepherds
are wont.
So the chiefs were gathered together, and much people
with them, Mezentius, and Ufens, and Messapus being their
leaders. They sent an embassy likewise to Diomed (for
Diomed had built him a city in Italy, even Arpi), to tell
him that Æneas and the men of Troy were setting up a
kingdom in these parts, and to bid him take counsel for
himself.
But Æneas was much troubled at these things, and cast
about in his mind where he should look for help. And
while he meditated thereon he slept. And lo! in his
dreams the god of the river, even Father Tiber, appeared
to him. An old man was he, and clad in a blue linen
robe, and having a crown of reeds upon his head. And he
spake, saying, “Thou art welcome to this land, to which
thou hast brought the gods of Troy. Be not dismayed at
wars and rumors of wars, nor cease from thy enterprise.
And this shall be a sign unto thee. Thou shalt find upon
the shore a white sow with thirty young, white also, about
her teats. And it shall come to pass that after thirty years
Iülus shall build him the White City. And now I will tell
thee how thou shalt have victory in this war. Certain men
of Arcadia, following their King, Evander, have built a city
in this land, and called its name Pallantium. These wage
war continually with the Latins. To them therefore thou
must go, making thy way up the stream of the river. Rise
therefore, and offer sacrifice to Juno, appeasing her wrath.
And to me thou shalt perform thy vows when thou shalt
have prevailed. For know that I am Tiber the river, and
that of all the rivers on earth none is dearer to the gods.”
Then Æneas roused him from sleep, and made his supplications
to the Nymphs and the river god, that they would
be favorable to him. And when he looked, lo! upon the
shore a white sow with thirty young, white also, about her
teats. Of these he made a sacrifice to Juno. And after
this he commanded that they should make ready two ships,
and so went on his way. And Tiber stayed his stream so
that the men might not toil in rowing. Quickly they sped,
and many trees were above their heads, and the image
thereof in the water beneath. And at noonday they beheld
a city with walls, and a citadel, and a few houses round
about.
Now it chanced that Evander and his people were holding
a sacrifice that day to Hercules before the city. But
when they saw through the trees the ships approaching,
they were astonished, and rose all from the feast. But
Pallas, who was the son of the King, commanded that they
should not interrupt the sacrifice, and snatching a spear, he
cried from the mound whereon the altar stood: “Strangers,
why come ye? what seek ye? Do ye bring peace or war?”
Then Æneas cried from the stern of his ship, holding
out the while an olive branch: “We be men of Troy,
enemies of the Latins, and we seek King Evander. Say,
therefore, to him that Æneas, prince of Troy, is come,
seeking alliance with him.”
Much did Pallas marvel to hear this name, and said,
“Approach thou, whoever thou art, and hold converse with
my father;” and he caught him by the hand.
And when Æneas was set before King Evander he spake,
saying, “I come to thee, O King, not unwilling or fearful,
though indeed thou art a Greek and akin to the sons of
Atreus. For between thee and me also there is kindred.
For Dardanus, builder of Troy, was the son of Electra, who
was the daughter of Atlas. And ye come from Mercurius,
who was the son of Cyllene, who was also the daughter of
Atlas. Wherefore, I sent not ambassadors to thee, but
came myself, fearing nothing. Know thou that the
Daunian race, which warreth against thee, pursueth us
also; against whom if they prevail, without doubt they
shall rule over Italy, from the one sea even to the other.
I would, therefore, that we make alliance together.”
And as he spake, Evander ceased not to regard him,
and, when he had ended, spake, saying, “Welcome, great
son of Troy. Gladly do I recognize the voice and face of
Anchises. For I remember how Priam came of old time
to the kingdom of his sister Hesioné, who was the wife of
Telamon; and many princes were with him, but the
mightiest of them was Anchises. Much did I love the
man, and took him with me to Pheneus. And he gave me
when he departed a quiver and arrows of Lycia, and a cloak
with threads of gold, and two bridles of gold, which my son
Pallas hath to this day. The alliance that thou seekest I
grant. To-morrow shalt thou depart, with such help as I
can give. But now, since ye be come at such good time,
join us in our sacrifice and feast.”
So they feasted together on the flesh of oxen and drank
wine, and were merry. And when they had made an end
of eating and drinking, King Evander spake, saying, “This
great feast, my friend, we hold not without good reason,
which thou shalt now hear from me. Seest thou this great
ruin of rocks? Here in old time was a cave, running very
deep into the cliff, wherein Cacus dwelt, a monster but
half man, whose father was Vulcan. The ground thereof
reeked with blood, and at the mouth were fixed the heads
of dead men. Very great of stature was he, and breathed
out fire from his mouth. To this land came Hercules,
driving before him the oxen of Geryon, whom he had slain.
And when he had left these to feed in the valley by the
river, Cacus, that he might fill up the measure of his
wickedness, stole four bulls and four heifers, the very
chiefest of the herd. And that he might conceal the thing,
he dragged them by the tails backwards, so that the tracks
lead not to the cave. But it chanced that the herd made
a great bellowing when Hercules would have driven them
away in the morning. And one of the heifers which Cacus
had hidden in the cave bellowed also, making answer.
Then was Hercules very wroth, and caught up in his hand
his great knotted club, and climbed to the top of the hill.
Then was Cacus sore afraid, and fled to his cave swift as
the wind, fear giving wings to his feet. And when he was
come thither, he shut himself therein, letting fall a great
stone which he had caused to hang over the mouth thereof
by cunning devices that he had learned from his father.
And when Hercules was come he sought to find entrance
and could not; but at the last he saw one of the rocks that
it was very high and leaned to the river. This he pushed
from the other side, so that it fell with a great crash into
the water. Then did the whole cave of Cacus lie open to
view, horrible to behold, as though the earth were to open
her mouth and show the regions of the dead. And first
Hercules shot at the monster with arrows, and cast boughs
and great stones at him; and Cacus vomited forth from
his mouth fire and smoke, filling the whole cave. And
Hercules endured not to be so baffled, but plunged into
the cave, even where the smoke was thickest, and caught
him, twining his arms and legs about him, and strangled
him, that he died. Of which deed, O my friends, we keep
the remembrance year by year. Do ye, therefore, join in
our feast, putting first wreaths of poplar about your heads,
for the poplar is the tree of Hercules.”
So they feasted; and the priests, even the Salii, being
in two companies, young and old, sang the great deeds of
Hercules: how, being yet an infant, he strangled the snakes
that Juno sent to slay him, and overthrew mighty cities,
and endured many grievous labors, slaying the Centaurs
and the lion of Nemea; and how he went down to hell, and
dragged the dog Cerberus therefrom, and many other things
likewise.
And at even they went back to the city, and as they
went Evander told Æneas many things concerning the
country: how of old a savage race dwelt therein, living
even as the beasts, whom Saturn, flying from his son Jupiter,
first taught, giving them customs and laws; and how
other kings also had borne rule over them, and how he
himself had come to the land at the bidding of Apollo.
Also he showed him the city which he had founded, and
the places thereof: very famous were they in aftertime,
when mighty Rome was builded, even on the selfsame
ground. And when they came to his palace he said,
“Hercules entered this dwelling, though indeed it be small
and lowly. Think not, then, overmuch of riches, and so
make thyself worthy to ascend to heaven, as he also ascended.”
Then he led him within the palace, and bade him rest
on a couch, whereon was spread the skin of an African
bear.
Very early the next morning the old man Evander rose
up from his bed, and donned his tunic, and bound his
Tuscan sandals on his feet, and girt his Tegean sword to
his side, flinging a panther’s hide over his left shoulder.
Pallas, his son, also went with him. And two hounds,
which lay by his chamber, followed him. For he would
fain have speech with Æneas, whom, indeed, he found
astir, and Achates with him. Then spake Evander:
“Great chief of Troy, good will have we, but scanty means;
for our folk are few and our bounds narrow. But I will
tell thee of a great people and a wealthy, with whom thou
mayest make alliance. Nigh to this place is the famous
city Agylla, which the men of Lydia, settling in this land
of Etruria, builded aforetime. Now of this Agylla Mezentius
was King, who surpassed all men in wickedness. For he
would join a living man to a dead corpse, and so leave him
to perish miserably. But after awhile the citizens rebelled,
saying that he should not reign over them, and slew his
guards and burnt his palace. But on him they laid not
hands, for he fled to Prince Turnus. Therefore there is
war between Turnus and Agylla. Now in this war thou
shalt be leader; for as yet, when they would have gone
forth to battle, the soothsayers have hindered them, saying,
‘Though your wrath against Mezentius be just, yet
must no man of Italy lead this people; but look you for a
stranger.’ And they would fain have had me for their
leader, but I am old and feeble. And my son Pallas
also is akin to them, seeing that he was born of a Sabine
mother. But thou art in thy prime, and altogether a
stranger in race. Wherefore take this office upon thyself.
Pallas also shall go with thee, and learn from thee to bear
himself as a warrior. Also I will send with thee two
hundred chosen horsemen, and Pallas will give thee as
many.”
And even before he had made an end of speaking, Venus
gave them a sign, even thunder in a clear sky; and there
was heard a voice as of a Tuscan trumpet, and when they
looked to the heavens, lo! there was a flashing of arms.
And Æneas knew the sign and the interpretation
thereof, even that he should prosper in that to which he
set his hand. Therefore he bade Evander be of good
cheer. Then again they did sacrifice, and afterwards
Æneas returned to his companions, of whom he chose
some, and them the bravest, who should go with him to
Agylla, and the rest he bade return to Iülus, to the camp.
But when he was now ready to depart, Evander took
him by the hand, saying, “O that Jupiter would give me
back the years that are gone, when I slew, under Præneste,
King Erulus, to whom at his birth his mother, Feronia,
gave three lives. Thrice must he needs be slain, and
thrice I slew him. Then had I not been parted from thee,
my son, nor had the wicked Mezentius slain so many of
my people. And now, may the gods hear my prayer: If
it be their pleasure that Pallas should come back, may I
live to see it; but if not, may I die even now while I hold
thee in my arms, my son, my one and only joy.”
And his spirit left the old man, and they carried him
into the palace. Then the horsemen rode out from the
gates, with Pallas in the midst, adorned with mantle and
blazoned arms, fair as the Morning Star, which Venus
loves beyond all others in the sky. The women stood
watching them from the walls, while they shouted aloud
and galloped across the plain. And after a while they
came to a grove, near to which the Etruscans and Tarchon,
their leader, had pitched their camp.
Now in the meantime Venus had bestirred herself for
her son, for while he slept in the palace of Evander she
spake to her husband, even Vulcan, saying, “While the
Greeks were fighting against Troy, I sought not thy help,
for I would not that thou shouldst labor in vain; but now
that Æneas is come to Italy by the command of the gods,
I ask thee that thou shouldst make arms and armor for
my son. This Aurora asked for Memnon; this Thetis for
Achilles, and thou grantedst it to them. And now thou
seest how the nations join themselves to destroy him.
Wherefore I pray thee to help me.” And he hearkened
to her voice. Therefore when the morning was come,
very early, even as a woman who maketh her living by the
distaff riseth and kindleth her fire, and giveth tasks to her
maidens, that she may provide for her husband and her
children, even so Vulcan rose betimes to his work. Now
there is an island, Liparé, nigh unto the shore of Sicily,
and there the god had set up his furnace and anvil, and
the Cyclopés were at work, forging thunderbolts for Jupiter,
whereof one remained half wrought. Three parts of
hail had they used, and three of rain-cloud, and three of
red fire and the south wind; and now they were adding to
it lightning, and noise, and fear, and wrath, with avenging
flames. And elsewhere they wrought a chariot for Mars,
and a shirt of mail for Minerva, even the Ægis, with
golden scales as of a serpent, and in the midst the Gorgon’s
head, lopped at the nape, with rolling eyes. But the
god cried, “Cease ye your toils. Ye must make arms for
a hero.” Then they all bent them to their toil. Then
bronze, and gold, and iron flowed in streams; and some
plied the bellows, and others dipped the hissing mass in
water, and a third turned the ore in griping pincers.
A helmet they made with nodding crest, that blazed
like fire, and a sword, and a cuirass of ruddy bronze, and
greaves of gold molten many times, and a spear, and a
shield whereon was wrought a marvellous story of things
to come. For the god had set forth all the story of Rome.
There lay the she-wolf in the cave of Mars, suckling the
twin babes that feared her not—and she, bending back
her neck, licked them with her tongue; and there the
men of Rome carried off the Sabine virgins to be their
wives; and hard by the battle raged, and there again the
kings made peace together, with offerings and sacrifice.
Also there were wrought the chariots that tore asunder
Mettus of Alba for his treachery, and Porsenna bidding
the Romans take back their King, besieging the city, but
the men of Rome stood in arms against him. Angry and
threatening stood the King to see how Cocles broke down
the bridge, and Clœlia burst her bonds to swim across the
river. There Manlius stood to guard the Capitol, and a
goose of silver flapped his wings in arcades of gold, and
showed the Gauls at hand. And they, under cover of the
darkness, were climbing through the thickets even to the
ridge of the hill. Their hair was wrought in gold, in gold
their raiment; and their cloaks were of divers colors crossed;
milk-white their necks and clasped with gold; two spears
had each and an oblong shield. Likewise he wrought the
dwellings of the dead, of the just and of the unjust. Here
Catiline hung from the rock while the Furies threatened
him; there Cato gave the people laws. And all about
was the sea wrought in gold; but the waves were blue,
and white the foam, and therein sported dolphins of silver.
But in the midst was wrought a great battle of ships at
the cape of Actium. On the one side Augustus led the
men of Italy to battle, standing very high on the stern of
the ship. From either temple of his head blazed forth a
fire. And Agrippa also led on his array with a naval
crown about his head. And on the other side stood
Antony, having with him barbarous soldiers arrayed in
divers fashions, and leading to battle Egypt and Persia
and the armies of the East; and lo! behind him—a
shameful sight—his Egyptian wife. But in another part
the battle raged, and all the sea was in a foam with oars
and triple beaks. It seemed as though islands were torn
from their places, or mountain clashed against mountain,
so great was the shock of the ships. And all about flew
javelins with burning tow, and the sea was red with blood.
In the midst stood Cleopatra, with a timbrel in her hand,
and called her armies to the battle: behind her you might
see the snakes by whose bite she should die. And on one
side the dog Anubis, with other monstrous shapes of gods,
and over against them Neptune, and Venus, and Minerva.
And in the midst Mars was seen to rage, embossed in
steel; and the Furies hovered above, and Discord stalked
with garment rent, while high above Apollo stretched his
bow, and Egyptian and Indian and Arab fled before him.
And in a third place great Cæsar rode through Rome in
triumph, and the city was full of joy, and the matrons
were gathered in the temples; and through the street
there passed a long array of nations that he had conquered,
from the east, and from the west, and from the
north, and from the south. Such was the shield which
Vulcan wrought.
And Venus, when she saw her son that none was with
him,—for he had wandered apart from his companions,—brought
the arms and laid them down before him, saying,
“See the arms that I promised I would give thee. These
my husband, the Fire-god, hath wrought for thee. With
these thou needst shun no enemy; no, not Turnus himself.”
Right glad was he to see them, and fitted them
upon him, and swung the shield upon his shoulder, nor
knew what mighty fates of his children he bare thereon.
After this Æneas made a covenant with the men of
Etruria, of whom one Tarchon was chief. And a great
company of these went with him to the war.
But in the meanwhile Turnus had fought against the
camp of the Trojans, and had slain many of the people.
And when they that remained were now ready to despair,
they looked up, and behold! Æneas was there, for he stood
upon the stern of his ship and lifted in his left hand a
flashing shield. Much did the men of Troy rejoice to see
that sight, and shouted amain. And Turnus and his companions
marvelled, till they looked behind them, and lo!
the sea was covered with ships, and in the midst was
Æneas. And it was as if a flame poured forth from his
helmet and his shield, bright as is a comet when it shines
in the night-time red as blood, or as the Dog Star in the
hot summer-tide with baleful light bringing fevers to the
race of men.
Yet did not Turnus lose heart, but would occupy the
shore, and hinder from landing those that came. Wherefore
he cried, “Now have ye that which ye wished for.
Lo! the enemy hides not himself behind a wall, but meets
us face to face. Remember wife and child and home and
the great deeds of your fathers. Let us meet them on the
shore ere yet their footing is firm.” And he thought within
himself who should watch the walls, and who should meet
the enemy when he would gain the shore.
But in the meanwhile Æneas landed his men on gangways
from the ships. And some leapt on shore, having
watched for the ebb of the waves, and some ran along the
oars. Tarchon also, the Etrurian, having spied a place
where the sea broke not in waves, commanded his men that
they should beach the ships. Which indeed they did without
harm. Only the ship of Tarchon himself was caught
upon a ridge and the men thrown therefrom. Yet these
also, after a while, got safe to the shore.
Then did Æneas do great deeds against the enemy. For
first he slew Theron, who surpassed all men in stature,
smiting through his coat of mail; and Cisseus and Gyas,
who wielded clubs after the manner of Hercules. Sons
were they of Melampus, who had borne Hercules company
in all his labors. Then the sons of Phorcus came against
him, seven in number; and they cast at him seven spears,
whereof some rebounded from his shield and some grazed
his body, but harmed him not. Then cried Æneas to
Achates, “Give me spears enough. Spears which have
slain the Greeks on the fields of Troy shall not be cast in
vain against these Latins.” Then of the seven he slew
Mæon and Alcanor, for the spear pierced the breast-plate
and heart of Mæon, and when Alcanor would have held him
up, passed through his arm and yet kept on its way. And
many others fell on this side and on that, for they fought
with equal fortune. On the very threshold of Italy they
fought, and neither would the Italians give place nor yet
the men of Troy, for foot was planted close to foot, and
man stood fast by man.
In another part of the battle Pallas fought with his
Arcadians. And when he saw that they fled, not being
wont to fight on foot (for by reason of the ground they had
sent away their horses), he cried, “Now, by the name of
your King Evander, and by my hope that I may win praise
like unto his, I beseech you that ye trust not to your feet.
Ye must make your way through the enemy with your
swords. Where the crowd is the thickest follow me. Nor
have ye now gods against you. These are but mortal men
that ye see.” And he rushed into the midst of the enemy.
First he smote Lagus with his spear, even as he was lifting
a great stone from the earth. In the back he smote
him, and, having smitten him, strove to draw forth the
spear; and while he strove, Hisbo would have slain him;
but Pallas was aware of his coming, and pierced him in the
breast with his sword. Next he slew the twin brothers,
Larides and Thymber. Very like they were, and it pleased
father and mother that they knew not the one from the other;
but Pallas made a cruel difference between them, for from
Thymber he struck off the head, and from Larides the
right hand. And after these he slew Rhœtus, as he fled
past him in his chariot. And now, even as a shepherd sets
fire to a wood, and the flames are borne along by the wind,
so Pallas, and his Arcadians following, raged through the
battle. And when Halæsus, the companion of Agamemnon,
would have stayed them, Pallas, first praying to Father
Tiber, smote him through the breast with a spear, that he
died. Then came to the help of the Latins, Lausus, the
son of King Mezentius, and slew Abas of Populonia, and
others also. Then the battle was equal for a space, for
Pallas supported it on the one side and Lausus on the other.
Fair were they both to behold and of equal age, and for
both it was ordained that they should not return to their
native country. Yet they met not in battle, seeing that
the doom of each was that he should fall by a greater hand.
And now the nymph Juturna, who was sister to Turnus,
bade her brother haste to the help of Lausus. And when
he was come, he cried to the Latins, “Give place: I only
will deal with Pallas. I only would that his father were
here to see.” Much did Pallas marvel to behold him and
to see the men give place. But, being no whit afraid, he
went forth into the space between the hosts, and the blood
of the Arcadians ran cold when they saw him go. Then
Turnus leapt from his chariot, for he would meet him on
foot. And first Pallas prayed, saying, “O Hercules! if
thou wast indeed my father’s guest, help me to-day!”
And Hercules heard him where he sat in heaven, and
wept because he could avail nothing. Then said Father
Jupiter, “My son, the days of men are numbered; yet
may they live forever by noble deeds. This at least can
valor do. Did not many sons of the gods fall at Troy?
yea, and my own Sarpedon. And for Turnus, too, the
day of doom is at hand.” And he turned his eyes from
the battle. Then Pallas cast his spear with all his might.
Through the shield of Turnus it passed, and through the
corselet, yea, and grazed the top of his shoulder. Then
Turnus balanced his spear awhile, and said, “This,
methinks, shall better make its way,” and he cast it.
Through the shield, through the stout bull’s hide, and
through the folds of bronze it passed, and through the
corselet, and pierced the breast of Pallas from front to
back. And Pallas tore from the wound the reeking steel,
and the blood gushed out, and the life therewith. Then
Turnus stood above the corpse, and said, “Men of Arcadia,
tell these my words to Evander: ‘Pallas I send him
back, even as he deserved that I should send him. I
grudge him not due honors of burial. Yet of a truth the
friendship of Æneas hath cost him dear.’” Then he put
his foot upon the body and dragged therefrom the belt.
Great and heavy it was, and Clonius had wrought thereon
in gold the deed of the fifty daughters of Danaüs, how
they slew their husbands in one night. But even then
the time was very near when Turnus would wish that he
had left that spoil untouched. And afterwards, with
much groaning and weeping, the companions of Pallas
laid him upon a shield and bare him back.
And now tidings came to Æneas that it fared ill with
his men, and that Pallas was slain. Across the field he
sped, and all his heart was full of wrath against Turnus
and pity for the old man Evander; and first he took alive
eight youths, whom he should slay upon the tomb. Then
he cast his spear at Lagus; but Lagus avoided it by craft,
and rushed forward, and caught him by the knees, beseeching
him by the spirit of his father and the hopes of
Iülus that he would spare him, and take a ransom for his
life. But Æneas made answer, “Talk not of sparing nor
of ransom; for to all courtesy of war there is an end now
that Turnus hath slain Pallas.” And he caught the man’s
helmet with his left hand, and, bending back his neck,
thrust in the sword up to the hilt. And many other valiant
chiefs he slew, as Hæmonides, priest of Phœbus and
Diana, and Tarquitus, son of Faunus, and dark Camers,
son of Volscens. And now there met him two brethren
on one chariot, Lucagus and Liger. And Liger, who
indeed drave the horses, cried aloud, “These are not the
horses of Diomed, nor this the chariot of Achilles, from
which thou mayest escape. Lo! the end of thy battles
and thy life is come.” But Æneas spake not, but cast his
spear, and even as Lucagus made himself ready for battle,
it sped through his shield and pierced his thigh. Then he
fell dying on the plain. And Æneas cried, mocking him,
“Thy horses are not slow to flee, nor frightened by a
shadow. Of thine own will thou leavest thy chariot.”
And he caught the horses by the head. Then Liger
stretched out his hands to him in supplication, saying, “I
beseech thee, by thy parents, have pity upon me.” But
Æneas made answer, “Nay, but thou speakest not thus
before. Die! and desert not thy brother.” And he
thrust the sword into his breast. Thus did Æneas deal
death through the host, even as he had been the giant
Typhœus with the hundred hands. And when Iülus and
the men of Troy beheld him they brake forth from the
camp.
And now Juno bethought her how she might save Turnus,
whom she loved. So she caused that there should
pass before his eyes an image as of Æneas, which seemed
to defy him to battle. And when Turnus would have
fought, lo! the false Æneas fled, and Turnus followed
him. Now there chanced to be lying moored to a great
rock a certain ship, on which King Asinius had come from
Clusium. Into this the false Æneas fled, and Turnus followed
hard upon him, but found not the man. And when
he looked, Juno had burst the moorings of the ship, and
the sea was about him on every side. Then he cried,
“What have I done, great Jupiter, that I should suffer
such shame? What think the Latins of my flight?
Drown me, ye winds and waves, or drive me where no
man may see me more.” Thrice he would have cast himself
into the sea; thrice would he have slain himself with
the sword; but Juno forbade, and brought him safe to the
city of Daunus, his father.
In the meanwhile King Mezentius joined the battle.
Nor could the men of Troy, nor yet the Tuscans, stay him.
Many valiant men he slew, as Mimas, whom his mother
Theano bare the same night that Hecuba bare Paris to
King Priam; and Actor, a Greek, who had left his promised
wife, and carried her purple favor in his helmet; and tall
Orodes. Orodes, indeed, was flying, but the King deigned
not to slay him in his flight, but met him face to face and
smote him. Also when Orodes cried, “Whoever thou art,
thou goest not long unpunished: a like doom awaits thee;
and in this land shalt thou find thy grave,” Mezentius
laughed, and made answer, “Die thou, but let the King of
gods and men see to me.”
But after awhile Æneas spied Mezentius as he fought,
and made haste to meet him. Nor did the King give place,
but cried, “Now may this right hand and the spear which
I wield be my gods, and help me.” And he cast his spear.
It smote the shield of Æneas, but pierced it not. Yet did
it not fly in vain, for glancing off it smote Antores in the
side—Antores who once had been comrade to Hercules,
and afterwards followed Evander. Now he fell, and in his
death remembered the city which he loved, even Argos.
Then in his turn Æneas cast his spear. Through the
bull’s-hide shield it passed, wounding the King in the groin,
but not to death. And Æneas was right glad to see the
blood flow forth, and drew his sword and pressed on; and
Mezentius, much cumbered with the spear and the wound,
gave place. But when Lausus, his son, saw this, he groaned
aloud and leapt forward, and took the blow upon his sword;
and his companions followed him with a shout, and cast
their spears at Æneas, staying him till Mezentius had gotten
himself safe away. And Æneas stood awhile under
the shower of spears, even as a traveller stands hiding himself
from a storm. Then he cried to Lausus, “What seekest
thou, madman? Why venturest thou that which thy
strength may not endure?” But Lausus heeded him not
at all, but still pressed on. Then the heart of Æneas was
filled with wrath, and the day was come for Lausus that
he should die. For the King smote him with his sword:
through shield it passed and tunic woven with gold, and
was hidden to the hilt in his body. And Æneas pitied him
as he lay dead, bethinking him how he, too, would fain have
died for his father, and spake, saying, “What shall Æneas
give thee, unhappy boy, for this thy nobleness? Keep thy
arms, in which thou hadst such delight, and let thy father
care as he will for thy body; and take this comfort in thy
death, that thou fallest by the hand of the great Æneas.”
Then he lifted him from the earth, and bade his companions
carry him away.
In the meantime his father tended his wounds, leaning
on the trunk of a tree by the Tiber bank. His
helmet hung from a branch, and his arms lay upon the
ground, while his followers stood around. And ever he
asked tidings of Lausus, and sent those who should bid
him return. But when they brought back his body on a
shield, his father knew it from afar, and threw dust upon
his white hair, and fell upon the body, crying, “Had I
such desire to live, my son, that I suffered thee to meet
in my stead the sword of the enemy? Am I saved by
these wounds? Do I live by thy death? And indeed, my
son, I did dishonor to thee by my misdeeds. Would that
I had given my guilty life for thine! But indeed I die;
nevertheless not yet, for I have first somewhat that I
must do.”
Then he raised himself on his thigh, and commanded
that they should bring his horse. His pride it was and
comfort, and had borne him conqueror from many fights.
Very sad was the beast, and he spake to it, saying, “O
Rhœbus, thou and I have lived long enough, if indeed
aught on earth be long. To-day thou shalt bring back the
head and the arms of Æneas, and so avenge my Lausus;
or thou shalt die with me. For a Trojan master thou wilt
not, I know, endure.”
Then he mounted the horse, and took spears in both
his hands, and so hasted to meet Æneas. Thrice he
called him by name, and Æneas rejoiced to hear his
voice, and cried, “Now may Jupiter and Apollo grant that
this be true. Begin the fight.” And Mezentius made
answer: “Seek not to make afraid. Thou canst do me no
harm now that thou hast slain my son. I am come to die,
but take thou first this gift; and he cast his spear, and
then another, and yet another, as he rode in a great circle
about the enemy. But they brake not the boss of gold.
And Æneas stood firm, bearing the forest of spears in his
shield. But at last issuing forth in anger from behind his
shield, he cast his spear and smote the war-horse Rhœbus
between his temples. Then the horse reared himself and
lashed the air with his feet, and fell with his rider beneath
him. And the men of Troy and the Latins sent up a
great shout. Then Æneas hasted and drew his sword,
and stood above him, crying, “Where is the fierce Mezentius
now?” And the King said, when he breathed again,
“Why threatenest thou me with death? Slay me; thou
wrongest me not. I made no covenant with thee for life,
nor did my Lausus when he died for me. Yet grant me
this one thing. Thou knowest how my people hateth me.
Keep my body, I pray thee, from them, that they do it no
wrong. And let my son be buried with me in my grave.”
And he gave his throat to the sword, and feared not.
So the battle had an end. And the next day, early in
the morning, Æneas paid his vows. For he took an oak-tree,
and lopped the branches round about, and set it on a
mound. And thereon he hung, for a trophy to Mars, the
arms of King Mezentius, the crest dripping with blood,
and the headless spears, and the corselet pierced in twelve
places. Also he fastened on the left hand the shield, and
hung about the neck the ivory-hilted sword. And next,
the chiefs being gathered about him, he spake, saying,
“We have wrought a great deed. Here ye see all that remaineth
of Mezentius. Now, therefore, let us make ready
to carry the war against the city of Latinus. This therefore
will we do with the first light to-morrow. And now
let us bury the dead, doing such honor to them as we
may, for indeed they have purchased a country for us with
their own blood. But first will I send back Pallas to the
city of Evander.”
Then he went to the tent where the dead body was laid,
and old Acœtes kept watch thereby—Acœetes, who had
been armor-bearer to Evander, and now had followed his son,
but with evil fortune; and the women of Troy, with their
hair unbound, mourned about him. But when they saw
Æneas they beat their breasts, and sent up a great cry
even to heaven. And when the King saw the pillowed
head, and the great wound in the breast, he wept, and said,
“Ah! why did Fortune grudge me this, that thou shouldst
see my kingdom, and go back in triumph to thy father’s
home? This is not what I promised to Evander when he
gave thee to my charge, and warned me that the men of
Italy were valiant and fierce. And now haply, old man,
thou makest offerings and prayers for him who oweth not
service any more to the gods of heaven. Yet, at least,
thou wilt see that he beareth an honorable wound. But
what a son thou losest, O Italy! and what a friend, thou,
Iülus!”
Then he choose a thousand men who should go with the
dead and share the father’s grief. After this they made a
bier of arbutus boughs and oak, and put also over it a canopy
of branches, and laid the dead thereon, like unto a
flower of violet or hyacinth which a girl hath plucked,
which still hath beauty and color, but the earth nourisheth
it no more. And Æneas took two robes of purple, which
Dido had woven with thread of gold, and with one he
wrapped the body and with the other the head. And behind
were carried the arms which Pallas had won in fight;
and they led the old man Acœtes, smiting on his breast
and tearing his cheeks, and throwing himself upon the
ground; and the war-horse Æthon walked beside, with the
great tears rolling down his cheeks. And also they bare
behind him his helmet and shield, for all else Turnus had
taken: and then followed the whole company, the men of
Troy, the Arcadians, and the Tuscans, with arms reversed.
And Æneas said, “The same cares and sorrows of war
call me elsewhere. Farewell, my Pallas, for ever!” And
he departed to the camp.
And now there came ambassadors from the city, having
olive branches about their heads, praying for a truce,
that they might bury their dead. Then Æneas made answer,
“Ye ask peace for the dead; fain would I give it
to the living. I had not come to this land but for the bidding
of the Fates. And if your King changeth from me
and my friendship to Turnus, I am blameless. Yet methinks
Turnus should rather have taken this danger upon
himself. And even now, if he be willing to fight with me,
man to man, so be it. But now bury ye your dead.”
Then they made a truce for twelve days. And the men
of Troy and the Latins labored together, hewing wood upon
the hills, pine and cedar and mountain ash. And the
men of Troy built great piles upon the shore, and burned
the dead bodies of their companions thereon, and their
arms with them. And the Latins did likewise. Also
they that had been chosen to do this thing carried the
body of Pallas to his city. And King Evander and the
Arcadians made a great mourning for him.
After these things there was again battle between the
Trojans and the Latins; and many were slain on either
side, but at the last the men of Troy prevailed. Then
Prince Turnus, seeing that the Latins had fled in the battle,
and that men looked to him that he should perform
that which he had promised, even to meet Æneas face to
face, was filled with rage. Even as a lion which a hunter
hath wounded breaketh the arrow wherewith he hath been
stricken, and rouseth himself to battle, shaking his mane
and roaring, so Turnus arose. And first he spake to King
Latinus, saying, “Not for me, my father, shall these cowards
of Troy go back from that which they have covenanted.
I will meet this man face to face, and slay him
while ye look on; or, if the gods will that he vanquish me
so, he shall rule over you, and have Lavinia to wife.”
But King Latinus made answer: “Yet think awhile, my
son. Thou hast the kingdom of thy father Daunus; and
there are other noble virgins in Latium whom thou mayest
have to wife. Wilt thou not then be content? For to
give my daughter to any husband of this nation I was forbidden,
as thou knowest. Yet did I disobey, being moved
by love of thee, my wife also beseeching me with many
tears. Thou seest what troubles I and my people, and
thou more than all, have suffered from that time. Twice
have we fled in the battle, and now the city only is left to
us. If I must yield me to these men, let me yield whilst
thou art yet alive. For what doth it profit me that thou
shouldst die? Nay, but all men would cry shame on me
if I gave thee to death!”
Now for a space Turnus spake not for wrath. Then he
said, “Be not troubled for me, my father. For I, too, can
smite with the spear; and as for this Æneas, his mother
will not be at hand to snatch him in a cloud from my
sight.”
Then Amata cried to him, saying, “Fight not, I beseech
thee, with these men of Troy, my son; for surely
what thou sufferest I also shall suffer. Nor will I live to
see Æneas my son-in-law.”
And Lavinia heard the voice of her mother, and wept.
As a man stains ivory with crimson, or as roses are seen
mixed with lilies, even so the virgin’s face burned with
crimson. And Turnus, regarding her, loved her exceedingly,
and made answer: “Trouble me not with tears or
idle words, my mother, for to this battle I must go. And
do thou, Idmon the herald, say to the Phrygian king, ‘To-morrow,
when the sun shall rise, let the people have peace,
but we two will fight together. And let him that prevaileth
have Lavinia to wife.’”
Then first he went to the stalls of his horses. The wife
of the North Wind gave them to Pilumnus. Whiter than
snow were they, and swifter than the wind. Then he put
the coat of mail about his shoulders, and fitted a helmet
on his head, and took the great sword which Vulcan had
made for Daunus his father, and had dipped it when it
was white-hot in the river of Styx. His spear also he took
where it stood against a pillar, saying, “Serve me well, my
spear, that has never failed me before, that I may lay low
this womanish robber of Phrygia, and soil with dust his
curled and perfumed hair.”
The next day the men of Italy and the men of Troy
measured out a space for the battle. And in the midst
they builded an altar of turf. And the two armies sat on
the one side and on the other, having fixed their spears in
the earth and laid down their shields. Also the women
and the old men stood on the towers and roofs of the city,
that they might see the fight.
But Queen Juno spake to Juturna, the sister of Turnus,
saying, “Seest thou how these two are now about to fight,
face to face? And indeed Turnus goeth to his death.
As for me, I endure not to look upon this covenant or this
battle. But if thou canst do aught for thy brother, lo!
the time is at hand.” And when the Nymph wept and
beat her breast, Juno said, “This is no time for tears.
Save thy brother, if thou canst, from death; or cause that
they break this covenant.”
After this came the kings, that they might make the
covenant together. And King Latinus rode in a chariot
with four horses, and he had on his head a crown with
twelve rays of gold, for he was of the race of the Sun;
and Turnus came in a chariot with two white horses, having
a javelin in either hand; and Æneas had donned the
arms which Vulcan had made, and with him was the
young Iülus. And after due offering Æneas sware, calling
on all the gods, “If the victory shall fall this day to
Turnus, the men of Troy shall depart to the city of Evander,
nor trouble this land any more. But if it fall to me,
I will not that the Latins should serve the men of Troy.
Let the nations be equal one with the other. The gods
that I bring we will worship together, but King Latinus
shall reign as before. A new city shall the men of Troy
build for me, and Lavinia shall call it after her own name.”
Then King Latinus sware, calling on the gods that are
above and the gods that are below, saying, “This covenant
shall stand for ever, whatsoever may befall. As sure as
this sceptre which I bear—once it was a tree, but a
cunning workman closed it in bronze, to be the glory of
Latium’s kings—shall never again bear twig or leaf, so
surely shall this covenant be kept.”
But the thing pleased not the Latins; for before, indeed,
they judged that the battle would not be equal between
the two; and now were they the more assured, seeing
them when they came together, and that Turnus walked
with eyes cast to the ground, and was pale and wan.
Wherefore there arose a murmuring among the people,
which when Juturna perceived, she took upon herself the
likeness of Camers, who was a prince and a great warrior
among them, and passed through the host, saying, “Are
ye not ashamed, men of Italy, that one man should do battle
for you all? For count these men: surely they are
scarce one against two. And if he be vanquished, what
shame for you! As for him, indeed, though he die, yet
shall his glory reach to the heavens; but ye shall suffer
disgrace, serving these strangers for ever.”
And when she saw that the people were moved, she
gave also a sign from heaven. For lo! an eagle that
drave a crowd of sea-fowl before him, swooped down to the
water, and caught a great swan; and even while the Italians
looked, the birds that before had fled turned and pursued
the eagle, and drave him before them, so that he
dropped the swan and fled away. Which thing when the
Italians perceived, they shouted, and made them ready for
battle. And the augur Tolumnius cried, “This is the
token that I have looked for. For this eagle is the stranger
and ye are the birds, which before, indeed, have fled,
but shall now make him to flee.”
And he ran forward and cast his spear, smiting a man
of Arcadia below the belt, upon the groin. One of nine
brothers was he, sons of a Tuscan mother, but their father
was a Greek; and they, when they saw him slain, caught
swords and spears, and ran forward. And straightway the
battle was begun. First they brake down the altars, that
they might take firebrands therefrom; and King Latinus
fled from the place. Then did Messapus drive his horses
against King Aulestes of Mantua, who, being fain to fly,
stumbled upon the altar and fell headlong on the ground.
And Messapus smote him with a spear that was like a
weaver’s beam, saying, “This, of a truth, is a worthier
victim.” After this Coryneüs the Arcadian, when Ebysus
would have smitten him, snatched a brand from the altar
and set fire to the beard of the man, and, before he came
to himself, caught him by the hair, and thrusting him to
the ground, so slew him. And when Podalirius pursued
Alsus the shepherd, and now held his sword over him
ready to strike, the other turned, and with a battle-axe
cleft the man’s head from forehead to chin.
But all the while the righteous Æneas, having his head
bare, and holding neither spear nor sword, cried to the
people, “What seek ye? what madness is this? The covenant
is established, and I only have the right to do battle.”
But even while he spake an arrow smote him,
wounding him. But who let it fly no man knoweth; for
who, of a truth, would boast that he had wounded Æneas?
And he departed from the battle.
Now when Turnus saw that Æneas had departed from
the battle he called for his chariot. And when he had
mounted thereon he drave it through the host of the enemy,
slaying many valiant heroes, as Sthenelus and Pholus, and
the two sons of Imbrasus the Lycian, Glaucus and Lades.
Then he saw Eumedes, son of that Dolon who would have
spied out the camp of the Greeks, asking as his reward the
horses of Achilles (but Diomed slew him). Him Turnus
smote with a javelin from afar, and, when he fell, came
near and put his foot upon him, and taking his sword drave
it into his neck, saying, “Lo! now thou hast the land
which thou soughtest. Lie there, and measure out Italy
for thyself.” Many others he slew, for the army fled before
him. Yet did one man, Phegeus by name, stand against
him, and would have stayed the chariot, catching the bridles
of the horses in his hand. But as he clung to the
yoke and was dragged along, Turnus broke his cuirass with
his spear, and wounded him. And when the man set his
shield before him, and made at Turnus with his sword, the
wheels dashed him to the ground and Turnus struck him
between the helmet and the breast-plate, and smote off his
head.
But in the meanwhile Mnestheus and Achates and Iülus
led Æneas to the camp, leaning on his spear. Very wrath
was he and strove to draw forth the arrow. And when he
could not, he commanded that they should open the wound
with the knife, and so send him back to the battle. Iapis
also, the physician, ministered to him. Now this Iapis was
dearer than all other men to Apollo, and when the god
would have given him all his arts, even prophecy and
music and archery, he chose rather to know the virtues of
herbs and the art of healing, that so he might prolong
the life of his father, who was even ready to die. This
Iapis, then, having his garments girt about him in healer’s
fashion, would have drawn forth the arrow with the pincers
but could not. And while he strove, the battle came
nearer, and the sky was hidden by clouds of dust, and
javelins fell thick into the camp. But when Venus saw
how grievously her son was troubled, she brought from
Ida, which is a mountain of Crete, the herb dittany. A
hairy stalk it hath and a purple flower. The wild goats
know it well if so be that they have been wounded by
arrows. This, then, Venus, having hidden her face,
brought and dipped into the water, and sprinkled there
with ambrosia and sweet-smelling panacea.
And Iapis, unawares, applied the water that had been
healed; and lo! the pain was stayed and the blood was
staunched, and the arrow came forth, though no man drew
it, and Æneas’s strength came back to him as before.
Then said Iapis, “Art of mine hath not healed thee, my
son. The gods call thee to thy work.” Then did Æneas
arm himself again, and when he had kissed Iülus and bidden
him farewell, he went forth to the battle. And all the
chiefs went with him, and the men of Troy took courage
and drave back to the Latins. Then befell a great slaughter,
for Gyas slew Ufens who was the leader of the Æquians;
also Tolumnius, the great augur, was slain, who had first
broken the covenant, slaying a man with his spear. But
Æneas deigned not to turn his hand against any man, seeking
only for Turnus, that he might fight with him. But
when the nymph Juturna perceived this she was sore afraid.
Therefore she came near to the chariot of her brother, and
thrust out Metiscus, his charioteer, where he held the reins,
and herself stood in his room, having made herself like to
him in shape and voice. Then as a swallow flies through
the halls and arcades of some rich man’s house, seeking
food for its young, so Juturna drave the chariot of her
brother hither and thither. And ever Æneas followed
behind, and called to him that he should stay; but whenever
he espied the man, and would have overtaken him by
running, then again did Juturna turn the horses about and
flee. And as he sped Messapus cast a spear at him. But
Æneas saw it coming, and put his shield over him, resting
on his knee. Yet did the spear smite him on the helmet-top
and shear off the crest. Then indeed was his wrath
kindled, and he rushed into the army of the enemy, slaying
many as he went.
Then there was a great slaughter made on this side and
on that. But after a while Venus put it into the heart of
Æneas that he should lead his army against the city.
Therefore he called together the chiefs, and, standing in
the midst of them on a mound, spake, saying, “Hearken
now to my words, and delay not to fulfil them, for of a truth
Jupiter is on our side. I am purposed this day to lay this
city of Latinus even with the ground, if they still refuse
to obey. For why should I wait for Turnus till it please
him to meet me in battle?”
Then did the whole array make for the walls of the city.
And some carried firebrands, and some scaling-ladders, and
some slew the warders at the gates, and cast javelins at
them who stood on the walls. And then there arose a
great strife in the city, for some would have opened the
gates that the men of Troy might enter, and others made
haste to defend the walls. Hither and thither did they
run with much tumult, even as bees in a hive in a rock
which a shepherd hath filled with smoke, having first shut
all the doors thereof.
Then also did other ill fortune befall the Latins, for
when Queen Amata saw from the roof of the palace that
the enemy were come near to the walls, and saw not anywhere
the army of the Latins, she supposed Turnus to
have fallen in the battle. Whereupon, crying out that she
was the cause of all these woes, she made a noose of the
purple garment wherewith she was clad, and hanged her
self from a beam of the roof. Then did lamentation go
through the city, for the women wailed and tore their hair,
and King Latinus rent his clothes and threw dust upon his
head.
But the cry that went up from the city came to the ears
of Turnus where he fought in the furthest part of the
plain. And he caught the reins and said, “What meaneth
this sound of trouble and wailing that I hear?” And the
false Metiscus, who was in truth his sister, made answer,
“Let us fight, O Turnus, here where the gods give us
victory. There are enough to defend the city.” But
Turnus spake, saying, “Nay, my sister, for who thou art I
have known even from the beginning, it must not be so.
Why camest thou down from heaven? Was it to see thy
brother die? And now what shall I do? Have I not seen
Murranus die and Ufens the Æquian? And shall I suffer
this city to be destroyed? Shall this land see Turnus
flee before his enemies? Be ye kind to me, O gods of
the dead, seeing that the gods of heaven hate me. I come
down to you a righteous spirit, and not unworthy of my
fathers.”
And even as he spake came Saces, riding on a horse
that was covered with foam, and on his face was the
wound of an arrow. And he cried, “O Turnus, our last
hopes are in thee. For Æneas is about to destroy the
city, and the firebrands are cast upon the roofs. And
King Latinus is sore tried with doubt, and the Queen
hath laid hands upon herself and is dead. And now only
Messapus and Atinas maintain the battle, and the fight
grows fierce around them, while thou drivest thy chariot
about these empty fields.”
Then for a while Turnus stood speechless, and shame
and grief and madness were in his soul; and he looked to
the city, and lo! the fire went up even to the top of the
tower which he himself had builded upon the walls to be
a defence against the enemy. And when he saw it, he
cried, “It is enough, my sister; I go whither the gods
call me. I will meet with Æneas face to face, and endure
my doom.”
And as he spake he leapt down from his chariot, and ran
across the plain till he came near to the city, even where
the blood was deepest upon the earth and the arrows were
thickest in the air. And he beckoned with the hand and
called to the Italians, saying, “Stay now your arrows.
I am come to fight this battle for you all.” And when
they heard it they left a space in the midst. Æneas also,
when he heard the name of Turnus, left attacking the city,
and came to meet him, mighty as Athos, or Eryx, or
Father Apenninus, that raiseth his snowy head to the
heavens. And the men of Troy and the Latins and King
Latinus marvelled to see them meet, so mighty they were.
First they cast their spears at each other, and then ran
together, and their shields struck one against the other
with a crash that went up to the sky. And Jupiter held
the balance in heaven, weighing their doom. Then Turnus,
rising to the stroke, smote fiercely with his sword.
And the men of Troy and the Latins cried out when they
saw him strike. But the treacherous sword brake in the
blow. And when he saw the empty hilt in his hand he
turned to flee. They say that when he mounted his chariot
that day to enter the battle, not heeding the matter in
his haste, he left his father’s sword behind him, and took
the sword of Metiscus, which, indeed, served him well
while the men of Troy fled before him, but brake, even as
ice breaks, when it came to the shield which Vulcan had
made. Thereupon Turnus fled, and Æneas, though the
wound which the arrow had made hindered him, pursued.
Even as a hound follows a stag that is penned within
some narrow space, for the beast flees hither and thither,
and the staunch Umbrian hound follows close upon him,
and almost holds him, and snaps his teeth, yet bites him
not, so did Æneas follow hard on Turnus. And still Turnus
cried out that some one should give him his sword,
and Æneas threatened that he would destroy the city if any
should help him. Five times about the space they ran;
not for some prize they strove, but for the life of Turnus.
Now there stood in the plain the stump of a wild olive-tree.
The tree was sacred to Faunus, but the men of Troy
had cut it, and the stump only was left. Herein the
spear of Æneas was fixed, and now he would have drawn
it forth that he might slay Turnus therewith, seeing that
he could not overtake him by running. Which when Turnus
perceived, he cried to Faunus, saying, “O Faunus,
if I have kept holy for thee that which the men of Troy
have profaned, hold fast this spear.” And the god heard
him; nor could Æneas draw it forth. But while he strove,
Juturna, taking again the form of Metiscus, ran and gave
to Turnus his sword. And Venus, perceiving it, wrenched
forth the spear from the stump. So the two stood again
face to face.
Then spake Jupiter to Juno, where she sat in a cloud
watching the battle, “How long wilt thou fight against
fate? What purpose hast thou now in thy heart? Was
it well that Juturna—for what could she avail without thy
help?—should give back to Turnus his sword? Thou
hast driven the men of Troy over land and sea, and kindled
a dreadful war, and mingled the song of marriage with
mourning. Further thou mayest not go.”
And Juno humbly made answer, “This is thy will, great
Father; else had I not sat here, but stood in the battle
smiting the men of Troy. And indeed I spake to Juturna
that she should help her brother; but aught else I know
not. And now I yield. Yet grant me this. Suffer not
that the Latins should be called after the name of Troy,
nor change their speech nor their garb. Let Rome rule
the world, but let Troy perish forever.”
Then spake with a smile the Maker of all things, “Truly
thou art a daughter of Saturn, so fierce is the wrath of thy
soul! And now what thou prayest I give. The Italians
shall not change name, nor speech, nor garb. The men of
Troy shall mingle with them, and I will give them a new
worship, and call them all Latins. Nor shall any race pay
thee more honor than they.”
Then Jupiter sent a Fury from the pit. And she took
the form of a bird, even of an owl that sitteth by night on
the roof of a desolate house, and flew before the face of
Turnus and flapped her wings against his shield. Then
was Turnus stricken with great fear, so that his hair stood
up and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. And
when Juturna knew the sound of the false bird what it
was, she cried aloud for fear, and left her brother and
fled, hiding herself in the river of Tiber.
But Æneas came on, shaking his spear that was like
unto a tree, and said, “Why delayest thou, O Turnus?
Why drawest thou back? Fly now if thou canst through
the air, or hide thyself in the earth.” And Turnus made
answer, “I fear not thy threats, but the gods and Jupiter,
that are against me this day.” And as he spake he saw a
great stone which lay hard by, the landmark of a field.
Scarce could twelve chosen men, such as men are now, lift
it on their shoulders. This he caught from the earth and
cast it at his enemy, running forward as he cast. But he
knew not, so troubled was he in his soul, that he ran or
that he cast, for his knees tottered beneath him and his
blood grew cold with fear. And the stone fell short, nor
reached the mark. Even as in a dream, when dull sleep
is on the eyes of a man, he would fain run but cannot, for
his strength faileth him, neither cometh there any voice
when he would speak; so it fared with Turnus. For he
looked to the Latins and to the city, and saw the dreadful
spear approach, nor knew how he might fly, neither how
he might fight, and could not spy anywhere his chariot or
his sister. And all the while Æneas shook his spear and
waited that his aim should be sure. And at last he threw
it with all his might. Even as a whirlwind it flew, and
brake through the seven folds of the shield and pierced
the thigh. And Turnus dropped with his knee bent to the
ground. And all the Latins groaned aloud to see him fall.
Then he entreated Æneas, saying, “I have deserved my
fate. Take thou that which thou hast won. Yet perchance
thou mayest have pity on the old man, my father,
even Daunus, for such an one was thy father Anchises,
and give me back to my own people, if it be but my body
that thou givest. Yet hast thou conquered, and the Latins
have seen me beg my life of thee, and Lavinia is thine.
Therefore, I pray thee, stay now thy wrath.”
Then for awhile Æneas stood doubting; aye, and might
have spared the man, when lo! he spied upon his shoulders
the belt of Pallas, whom he had slain. And his wrath was
greatly kindled, and he cried with a dreadful voice, “Shalt
thou who art clothed with the spoils of my friends escape
me? ’Tis Pallas slays thee with this wound, and takes
vengeance on thy accursed blood.” And as he spake he
drave the steel into his breast. And with a groan the
wrathful spirit passed into darkness. |
